


Vive la Revolution

by themidnightrhapsody



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Complete, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:18:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themidnightrhapsody/pseuds/themidnightrhapsody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On body bags, political terrorism, rock operas, date nights, family bonding, coffee beans, and the whole goddamn enchilada. Roxas/Axel, AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vive la Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> Original notes from FFN: Warning: violence. Blood. Potentially upsetting content and themes. Political terrorism (which I don't support, but ever since I got into Wicked again the idea won't leave me alone). Homicide! Arson! An author's very vague grasp on romance! And a complete lack of explicit sexual content. Because sex is for squares. Twili and the Twilight Realm are terms I borrowed from Twilight Princess (Zelda), but the game has nothing to do with it; and also, it's a conglomeration of Finnish, Russian, and random sounds I rather like (Finnish and Russian are the most beautiful languages ever). Don't take offense if something is translated 'wrong;' if it is, it's intentional, since I wanted a particular sound. Besides, there are very few words in there anyway. ALSO: I know the ending is kind of…abrupt. That's intentional as well. It's not supposed to be the kind of story with a cutesy ending wrapped up with a pretty bow; they're real people, and maybe it will never end. I leave the rest of the story to your imagination.
> 
> Pretend our movies and music exist in this AU; they're not necessarily important, but they give imagery in about three places.
> 
> Soundtrack:
> 
> Intro:
> 
> Us and Them – Pink Floyd
> 
> Body:
> 
> in no particular order: Blue Strings from Danny Elfman's Serenada Schizophrana; Brand New's Okay I Believe You But My Tommy Gun Don't and The Quiet Things that No One Ever Knows; Nirvana's Come As you Are; Beethoven's Moonlit Sonata; Sublime's What I Got; and of course A Boy Named Sue by Johnny Cash.
> 
> Ending credits:
> 
> Snow (Hey-oh) – Red Hot Chili Peppers

If Johnny Cash had a rap battle with Britney Spears in a Twilit Chapel, the result would be less bizarre than the night I met Roxas.

I woke up against a dead streetlamp, shivering in all my naked glory, ass wet from the snow and eyes crusted, with no memory of how and why I'd gotten there. I figured Larxene, the bitch, had stripped me and dragged me out there; it was something only she'd do to me. For some inexplicable reason, the others were sort of afraid of me, and I did nothing to quell the rumors because I mostly hated people. And because I didn't care.

The snow set a backdrop, ground matching sky matching buildings and the only color out there was my hair, which I couldn't see. It took me a minute to realize that if I stayed out there any longer, I'd probably catch hypothermia – an annoyance I didn't want – or get frostbite on my dick – a disaster of epic proportions. I liked it too much to lose it.

"Fuck," I said despondently. I didn't even know where I was, and knocking on doors was out of the question. I noted with a sort of detached amusement that my voice was shaking. How long had I been out there? My watch had been taken too.

When I next saw Larxene I would fly into a righteous fury and…bitch at her. My arms were skinny and my wrists delicate; even if I hit her, I'd probably break my wrist before I broke her face. Also she was a woman, and while I wasn't at all discriminatory (I hated almost everyone, regardless of their potential for –isms), she'd milk it dry.

Regardless of the fact that she had long ago decided that I was a crossdressing girl.

I had to drag my scrawny body to a standing position, which was a lot harder than it sounds. I figured I'd been out there for at least an hour; I was so stiff my knees cracked and my hips groaned and my fingers protested and all that.

But just as I'd gotten halfway up, I had to slouch down again – not so much from stiffness, although obviously that was a factor, but from utter terror. Emerging from the alley was a really hot guy. Well, I assumed it was a hot guy, because otherwise that was the most masculine chick  _ever._ But it wasn't the hotness that caught me off guard; it was the blood.

Blood all over his hands, his face, and his shoulders. That, and the bodybag he was carrying effortlessly over his shoulder. He was like a foot shorter than me, but he was the most intimidating sight I'd ever seen.

Maybe if his eyes hadn't been so blue, nor his hair so golden, if the blood hadn't been so  _pretty_  on him. Well, okay, just the color red, because I'd always found blood to be a little…icky. He stopped dead when he saw me, some kind of weird smile on his face, and dropped the bag. I winced as I heard a distinct  _whump,_  too heavy to be anything but an actual body.

"Hey," he said.

"Uh…hey." I didn't want him to come any closer, so I gestured to his bag and said, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Oh, she can wait. I'm actually more concerned about why there's some unclothed guy outside turning blue from the cold. If this is a dare, you're a complete moron."

"I don't even know how I  _got_  here," I told him. "If you're just going to stand there, at least give me your coat, I'm fucking freezing."

"I have a better idea," he said, pointing to the blood on his arms. "Hannah doesn't really need  _her_ clothes anymore. Usually I keep them, but…you need it more, in this case."

"You want me to wear a  _dead woman's clothes."_

"Your other option is to freeze. You obviously need to get somewhere, and my car is a mile away. I don't mind blood on the seats, but I don't want your naked ass on the leather."

I decided not to comment on how backward that was, because he might kill me. Instead, I sighed and held out my hand. "Does she have a coat?"

* * *

I woke in a cocoon of blankets, smelling of smoke and booze. I vaguely remembered something about whiskey to warm up and a bonfire – no, it was a fire we set, so we could 'burn the evidence,' and I didn't actually want to remember that – and some introductions. Ryan? Richard?

He wasn't in the room. I could barely believe he'd actually let me live after what I'd seen, but then, I'd never really met a murderer before. You hear stories, but how many people really know what they're talking about?

The apartment was pretty sophisticated. If that had really been a human body, and it sure looked like it when we burned it, he was a  _classy_  murderer. I didn't know whether that made it better or worse.

"I brought you some tea," he said from nowhere, and I didn't jump, but only because I was too tired.

"Thanks," I tried to say, but it came out as some crazy noise.

He rolled his eyes and came closer. I didn't flinch because, again, I was too tired. The night before had been…well, different. I hadn't been completely coherent, or afraid of him until I'd seen that the heavy thing in the bodybag was, indeed, a body. Hannah was kind of cute, in that vague little-girl way adults can only achieve when they're asleep. Or, apparently, dead. I wondered what she'd done to piss off the guy nonchalantly handing me a cup of tea.

What was his name? Riley? No, some girly name.

Roxas. That was it.

"Look, now that you're not in any immediate danger, we need to talk about last night."

I knew that would pop up eventually. It would have been stupid to think otherwise. I'd made some really bad decisions in my life, but I wasn't stupid.

"Okay." Ah, my voice was working again.

"You can't tell anyone about what you saw. I mean  _anyone._  Even the police. I know it's the first instinct of any upstanding citizen to call the police when they…but you're an accomplice now. You helped me get rid of the evidence, so if you turn me in, you're screwed too. You can't even tell your therapist, okay?"

How did he know…

I gave him a suspicious look. "How do you know I have a therapist?"

"Oh." He shrugged. "I actually didn't. It was sort of an expression, but…uh, yeah, so…"

He seemed so…human. Weren't the killer types supposed to be nasty and threatening? "At least tell me why you…you know."

"She and I have a history. I like to make sure history never repeats itself."

"Could you get any vaguer?"

"I'm sure I could, but then it wouldn't really be a reply," he answered, as though he thought it had been a serious question.

"Never mind." I looked at my shirt, which was about three sizes too short. "Was I wearing this last night?"

"Well, sort of. We burned Hannah's clothes, remember? I gave you some of mine."

Usually, if I woke up in a strange place wearing the wrong clothes, it would mean Marcy Playground's hit single and the morning-after regret. I'd never even considered a scenario like this, with the talk of murder and –

Wait.

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"If that's what you want to call it. I'm giving you the facts and letting you choose how to proceed, but I'm also warning you of the consequences."

"So, blackmail."

"Again, if that's what you want to call it. I prefer to call it a business deal."

The day before, I'd been haggling with a pawnbroker. Suddenly I was doing deals with the devil. Well, okay, just some dude who killed people. "I wasn't going to tell anyone anyway. You don't know this about me, but if I told anyone, they'd just think you were a story and I did it myself."

It was sad, but true. Sad in the way that a three-legged race is sad.

"Yeah, I can imagine that. Riku especially."

Something like confusion hit me. For a moment, I thought it was terror, but then I remembered I was too cool to be terrified. "You know Riku?"

"Not personally." He gave me an unreadable look. "You're exceptionally chatty when you're drunk. I feel as though I know them all - Riku, Larxene, Naminé, Marluxia, Zexion."

"I don't remember telling you," I insisted. I wasn't sure what I was implying, but it wasn't anything good.

"Do you remember telling me you wanted to fuck me until I couldn't breathe," he asked dryly. If I'd been a character in a teen romance, my face would have turned bright red.

But I wasn't, and it didn't. I'm a very expressive drunk, and also a very sexual drunk. Shit happens. "Uh, no."

"I told you we'd talk about it in the morning. Consider yourself talked to."

I blinked. To test the waters, or perhaps because of my thrillseeking tendencies, I asked, "Does this mean you won't sleep with me?"

The intense stare made my mocking face slip off and hide in a very dark corner. "I'm not making any promises."

* * *

Home was three buses and a fence hop away. I wasn't sure why Roxas had given me bus money instead of a ride, but it was for the best; the less time I spent with him, the greater my chances for freedom if someone turned him in for killing Hannah.

When I arrived, Larxene was the first one on the scene, and I toyed with the idea of slapping her, but calling her out in front of everyone was a better option.

"We were so worried," she said. I was actually surprised at how honest she sounded. "Where the fuck were you, Axel?"

Wait.

"What?"

"Don't play stupid. You went off with that chick and we figured, hey, not your usual type, but nobody was going to question why you went for tits this time. We had a  _raid_  this morning and we were missing a key teammate! We almost got caught because of you!"

Oh. So Larxene hadn't been the one to drag me out there. It was a relief to hear; when we didn't hate each other, we got on pretty well. "Uh...last night some bad shit happened. I woke up naked outside in the middle of nowhere. I don't remember a girl; who was she?"

"Her name was Hannah and she is  _dead,"_  Marluxia said, coming through the door. Naminé wasn't far behind. I knew Zexion and Riku were probably on cleanup duty; they never missed a chance to watch us go at it.

I panicked for a moment before I realized it was probably a different Hannah and Marluxia was using an expression. "I don't remember her at all. What did she look like?"

When Larxene and Marluxia stayed silent, Naminé said, "Brown hair...weird brown eyes...sort of tall, but she looked very young, even though she's twenty-eight. Does that ring any bells?"

Yes. She was describing Roxas' Hannah perfectly. Uh-oh. "No, I really can't remember leaving with anyone. Look, I'm exhausted, I need to change into something that fits, and I need to brush my teeth. Thanks for caring, but you can stop now."

Before I could move or anyone else could ask questions, Naminé whispered, "May I have that shirt?"

Suspiciously, I answered, "Why?"

"It's painted to look like it's covered in old blood. It's beautiful."

I'd thought it was some kind of abstract art. It was kind of weird to be wearing a bloodstained shirt.

Did this mean Roxas had killed someone else? Aside from Hannah?

"Yeah," I told her. "Let me get my own clothes and I'll give it to you."

I couldn't decide which was more disturbing: the idea that I had been wearing somebody's blood, or that Naminé wanted something that looked like someone's blood. Either way, the answer was the same.

Gross.

* * *

My boss, now that I really looked at him, looked a  _lot_  like Roxas. Sora's eyes were a bit brighter, maybe, and his hair was brown and horrendously spiky, but if you put them in a room, you'd think they were brothers. Maybe even twins.

"Late again, Axel?" One thing I liked about my boss was that he never got mad. Even when an employee messed up or an angry customer made a scene, he was always cheerful and helpful. Sora said all anybody needed was a smile to brighten their day. In a way, I was envious; I sometimes thought it would be nice to have that much faith in people.

But mostly I was grateful that he'd never fire me. He'd taken me in after my spectacular firing from the shitty nine-to-five I'd previously hated, and I was practically family. He was a great guy and surprisingly good with business.

Of course, he wasn't necessarily creative.  _That Coffee Place_  wasn't usually the actual name of a coffee shop, but hey, at least it was catchy.

"Yeah, sorry." Lies. I wasn't sorry. I'd had a fantastic sleep in which I'd dreamed about Hannah getting up out of the fire and getting amnesia so she wouldn't remember being killed. Then somehow I was Hannah and Roxas had me pinned to the wall, and…

"Good night, Axel?"

Ah.

Kairi.

I didn't know the entire story, but somehow Sora and Kairi had opened That Coffee Place together. After working together, they'd gotten a divorce, realized how much they needed each other, and gotten back together. It was helpful if I didn't think about it at all; Kairi was a sweetheart, but that was precisely the problem. Thinking about them made me want to gag.

"Sort of. I got some good sleep," I told her. "Anyway, it looks dead in here."

"Yes," she replied, and there was a short awkward silence. Kairi had never really liked me, and I'd never really liked her, either. But she was my boss' wife and I sort of had to be nice to her.

I sighed and tied on my apron.

She sighed and leaned on the counter.

There were all sorts of sighs to be had until the bell rang, making me jump out of my skin and Kairi clutch her chest – we were having a staring contest, weren't we?

Brilliant.

"Welcome to That Coffee Place," I said automatically, but then I actually looked at my customer.

"Hello, Axel," Roxas said pleasantly.

I didn't faint. I wasn't scared. It was just low blood sugar, and the doctor said it was only a  _mild_ concussion.

* * *

What better way to stay awake than to help my associates in a raid?

After Larxene had laughed me down Bitch Road, she'd told me about our next quest – everyone else called them missions, because they didn't have my sense of humor – and of course, I was central to their little plot. I usually was. Nobody used the word  _bait,_  but…

"Are you  _sure_  this guy deserves our attention?" Ever since Roxas, I'd been questioning everything subconsciously. This was the first time I'd ever voiced anything out loud.

She looked at me like she thought I was an idiot. She did think I was an idiot, so I wasn't too terribly surprised. "Of course. You think we'd just go fuck with him without proof? We'd get into a fuckton of trouble if we didn't have dirt on him. Plus, he's out of town. This is just a message."

She must have been nervous. She didn't usually curse unless she was nervous. "Well, I was just asking. I haven't exactly been around. What did he do?"

"Got in our way."

I'd ask Riku. He didn't like me very much, but he'd be straight with me – he overestimated me, and I reveled in the power. I exploited it like a good little psycho. "Okay. Well, I'm going to suit up. Any chance you could bring some celebratory confetti?"

She rolled her eyes. "Get your ass in gear, you weirdo."

I obeyed –  _obliged._  I didn't obey. I only followed orders from our superior, but he was dead, so I was my own man. Free agent. I didn't obey  _Larxene._  I just went along with her because arguing with her was a hassle.

I always felt stupid in my gear – it felt more like a costume, like we were superheroes or something. I guess in a way, we were. The world was a fuckhole and we worked relentlessly to make it better. Even if it meant getting in the way of the law. So my modified fire suit felt like a costume, but it protected more than just little old Axel.

Firmly strapped in, I knocked on Riku's door.

"What," he said irritably, peeking at me. He was always a little weird like that.

"Are you ready?"

"I'm always ready." He was lucky; he got to wear a black hooded cloak, like the rest of them. I was different because I was good with fire – also, as previously stated,  _not-_ bait. Sometimes our excursions got a little out of hand…

"Do you know anything about this job?"

He gave me the same look Larxene had given me. I ignored it. "He's been poking around. Hired some kind of hit man – well, more like a private detective who also kills people. Nobody knows who this guy is, but that girl you left with – Hannah – was in league with him. She's probably with him now, spilling everything she knows."

Or she's a pile of ashes sent up in twenty helium-filled balloons.

"Anyway, you don't fuck with the Order if you don't want to get fucked back hard and fast. We send him a message, he calls off his dog. If he doesn't…well, everybody has accidents."

Riku used to be so nice. He's the one who introduced me to Sora, who is probably the nicest guy in the entire universe. What would Sora say if he saw this now? What would  _Kairi_  say? Do they know about Riku's…job?

I sell coffee for a living. At night, I set things on fire. "But who  _is_  he? What does he want?"

Riku sighed, looking…defeated. Whoa. That was definitely new. "Why do we usually do this? People are more motivated by negativity. Can you tell me honestly that you'd do have the things you do if Larxene didn't bully you into it? And you don't even believe it when she threatens you. So imagine you're Ansem W. friggin Isley, and so far you've been ignoring polite requests for change. Then all your research blows up in your face, pretty much literally. You get a message telling you next time it'll be your family. You're  _going_  to make changes."

"What…what did we ask him for?"

He rolled his eyes this time. "The usual, freedom of the oppressed, the right to vote, world peace, more popcorn at movies, et cetera. Sometimes I wonder if I really believe in this shit anymore – if any of us really believe in it. Do you?"

I had to think about that. Did I? Did I really care who was in power? It didn't affect me either way; I had a place to sleep, a job – but, I thought, that could be taken away. I was good at wriggling out of situations, but if this hit man had dirt on us, he'd know about me. Even I wasn't good enough to get on power's good side.

Why had Roxas killed Hannah? Did he know something? Was he one of our shadow supporters? Was that why he'd been so nice to me that night?

"Yeah," I told him. "If we don't change this, nobody will. They're too scared of the King to outright revolt. And the funny thing is…I don't even think King Mickey's in on this little power struggle. I listen to outside news. I've heard he's trying to fix the disaster in the west. We can't petition him; even if somehow we were heard, it sounds so ridiculous. It's up to us."

"Is it really?"

I shrugged. "If you're not with us, leave."

"Sora," he said flatly. "Kairi. They're our topside contacts. Do you really think they'd be safe?"

Holy. Shit. They were  _in_  on this? But…they seemed so nice. So perfect.

…Too perfect. Holy  _shit._

"Then stay, and get focused. We've got a politician to piss off, a lab to destroy, and a hit man to scare. Come on, you know you secretly love this. You love working from the shadows to change things for the better."

"You always know the right thing to say. It's really annoying."

"Glad to be of service," I said, just as we entered the front hallway.

"Ugh, I don't even  _want_  to know," said Larxene, the smirk on her lips telling me otherwise.

I felt an unexpected swell of affection. These were my people. They didn't like me, and most of them were scared of me, but they were  _my people._  Ansem was going down, along with that stupid hit man and everyone else associated with him.

You  _don't_  fuck with my people.

* * *

I looked like a demon, a flurry of dancing flames surrounding me.

Sirens coming from everywhere.

Larxene calling my number.  _Eight, Eight, where the hell are you Eight!_

I was about to run toward her, but Roxas pulled up on the side and I couldn't help myself. The adrenaline coursing through me completely clouded my judgment. I wanted to see him, wanted to put myself in danger, wanted to fuck him senseless and hear him beg for more.

He wasn't scary at night. Not when the flames were high and so was I.

I ran toward him instead.

* * *

I realized the light on my face wasn't sunlight; it was the television, gone all fuzzy because the tape had run out. I hadn't even realized people still used VCRs. A quick glance at the digital numbers told me it was just after two in the morning.

Waking up at Roxas' place was just as weird the second time. I was on the couch; he had a fire going and the kitchen light was on. I could hear some faint piano music – jazz, probably; Roxas seemed like a jazz person – and I decided to investigate.

"Oh, you're up," he said.

"Yeah."

Awkward.

Silence.

Is.

Awkward.

I finally got tired of the silence and asked, "Why were you there…at the fire? Fires are  _really_ dangerous and you weren't protected at all."

He shrugged. "There are only so many people who go around making magnesium fires for fun, and I had another body. I took advantage of your handiwork – it was nice, by the way – and by the time they get all of that sorted, the body will probably be gone. If not, well, it'll be okay."

I wanted to be outraged – Ansem might think that body was the arsonist, not us – but then I realized it could be advantageous. If Ansem thought we were so dedicated to our cause that we'd burn ourselves…maybe he'd take us even more seriously.

Still.

"If you're going to make a habit of this, you're going to have to learn to make your own fires."

Was I really offering to teach him my secrets? What was he going to offer in return? Arson 101 for Murder 101? I'd taken that class in college, only they'd called it "Introduction to Forensic Science." It bored me out of my skull.

"It's not like I go kill people all the time," he said, almost pouting. It was cute, sort of like an unsocialized bulldog is cute before it rips your throat out. I remembered that night with the blood and the body bag and Roxas wasn't the kind of guy you expected to rip your throat out. At least, from what I'd seen, he wasn't. But then, what did I really know about him?

"Well, the last two times I've met you, not counting the day at the coffee bar when I got a concussion – oh,  _shit,_  I wasn't supposed to go to sleep."

"You seem all right to me." Couldn't he at least  _pretend_  to be concerned? I'd helped him dispose of _two_  bodies. "Anyway, that first time was…and this time I…you know what, we're not talking about this."

I frowned. "But-"

" _We are not talking about this."_

Wisely, I shut up. There was only so much venom a guy could take, and Roxas had looked so…wait, was that a crossword puzzle? I'd been scared of a guy doing a crossword puzzle in reading glasses? I didn't know whether it was hilarious or humiliating. I decided not to think about it.

"Fine. Do you have something to eat?"

He gave me a nasty look. "No, Axel, I am a vampire, and as such I don't need traditional food. That refrigerator is only for show."

"Well, don't eat me," I snipped, making my way over to the corner where the fridge was. I opened it and found…well, heaven.

Chicken salad. Tuna noodle casserole. An orange sauce I'd learn later was the most delicious vodka sauce in the entire universe. Assorted cheeses. Salami by the chunk and pepperoni by the slice. Homemade bread.  _Freshly churned butter._  Raspberry jam in a Mason jar. And that good kind of orange juice, the one made with no extra sugar or preservatives.

"And get poisoned? No thanks." I could hear his voice, but I wasn't really listening. I was too busy salivating.

"Great Goddess on a stick, Axel," he said – it was a horrible, horrible phrase; my religious upbringing wanted to scold him, and my chaotic lifestyle wanted to laugh at him – and I felt something cold on my arm. "Here's a plate. Take what you want; it's going to go bad if someone doesn't eat it."

"Don't you eat?"

D'hurr, Axel. Nice going.

I could see his  _Look_  out of the corner of my eye. "Just because I kill people for a living doesn't mean my stomach is  _bigger_  than anyone else's."

A sudden sinking, uneasy feeling settled over me. "Kill…for a living? As in…like a hit man?"

"Well, I don't get paid for it. I mean, I loot my corpses, which is why I said that. But I have a real job."

I didn't feel any better. What if Roxas was hired by Ansem? What if he was trying to get close to me so he could gather information?

But if he was working for Ansem, why would he kill Hannah? They would have been on the same side.

This was why it was a bad idea to get involved, no matter how vaguely, with a murderer. Suddenly there were questions he probably wouldn't answer, and I was sort of afraid to ask. I was essentially an adrenaline junkie, but I wasn't suicidal. Just because he liked me  _now_  didn't mean he always would.

Right?

"This is getting really weird," I told him, dumping some chicken salad onto some bread. He handed me a spoon – how thoughtful.

"Talking about dead people, or meeting up like this? We could meet up during the day. I could maybe take you out somewhere."

I blinked. "Are you asking me out?"

Instead of answering, he said, "If you don't eat that soon, I'm stealing it from you."

"Make your own," I said possessively, and the topic was effectively closed.

* * *

"There were cops everywhere," I said, trying not to roll my eyes. "I couldn't get to you without being seen, so I went off in another direction. I crashed at a friend's."

As Naminé probably knew what happened already, I didn't feel the need to censor myself much; the worst she could do was tell the others, but I doubted she would. She'd just blackmail me into doing something for her. The others always fell for it. "And your friend…didn't question your big  _fire suit and mask?"_

"No. He's not a friend so much as a…potential recruit." I really was pulling things out of my ass, but the nice thing was, I was really good at that. I had a way with words. "He really believes in our cause."

"And how do you know he's not just trying to win you over so he can destroy us?"

Because I helped him dispose of Hannah's body.

"Because he told me a secret. I can't spread this around, but he's done some stuff too. Remember that big explosion last year? The one that almost killed an intern?"

She frowned in that knowing, almost chastising way I couldn't stand. "Are you  _sure?"_

"Naminé." I took her hands. "Please just trust me. I realized that we're not cutting it. I want to succeed, okay? I want Ansem out of power. I want the rights that were taken away from us. I want to go to an uncensored concert. I want to stop running. There are operations like ours all over, but we can use all the help we can get. I  _know,_  if I can get him to commit to us, he'll be a huge asset."

"I…"

"You know, you're my favorite person here," I said, giving her a little smile. I was starting to win her over. "I wouldn't tell this to anybody else. If you'll just cover me  _this once,_  I promise you'll never have to do it again. I went to the beta base, okay?"

She sighed. She could have been pretty, had she not been so bony and shrunken. "Okay, Axel. Just this once."

I'd known I'd get to her eventually, but it was a relief all the same. Sometimes Naminé literally, physically couldn't keep her mouth shut about the truth.

* * *

When I wasn't setting fires or being an accessory to murder, my life was…pretty mundane. I went to work and flirted with the customers, cooked dinner for the alpha crew, coordinated schedules with Demyx – a member of the beta crew – and just hung out. I mostly stuck with Larxene and Marluxia; Riku and I didn't really get along, and though I was fine with Zexion, he was too busy doing…whatever he was doing with Lexaeus, one of our undercovers. He worked in Hollow Bastion Castle, and was a mountain.

I didn't even  _want_  to know.

Usually, at ten o'clock, I would have been kicking ass at poker with Marluxia, Naminé, and Larxene, but a month after Roxas had taken advantage of my fire and after ten 'accidental' meetings at That Coffee Place, I was on his couch under a majillion blankets – he didn't have a heater, and the fireplace was acting up – and watching a bloody rock opera starring Paul Sorvino and Sarah Brightman. And Giles.

It was like an ear orgasm. I planned to be out of the room at the end, because the last scene always made me…well,  _cry_  is a little dramatic. It just tugged on my heartstrings a little. I knew what it was like…losing someone you love…but I was always more expressive on the outside than I was on the inside.

I figured in another life, I'd been emotionally stunted, because I had a severe aversion to apathy. I forced myself to pay attention to emotional things, even when I wouldn't normally notice.

There was something very cold on my leg and I jumped at the sensation. "The hell, Roxas?"

He looked completely unabashed and…well, kind of mischievous, something I'd never seen on him. I liked it. "I'm cold. You're giving off enough body heat to start a fire. Sharing is caring, Axel."

Because sharing was the first thing I thought of when I considered what I knew about him. Not. "Get your feet off me."

"Or what? You'll set me on fire?" I knew he was just razzing me, because a) I only set  _things_  on fire, not people; and b) I'd told him so. "I wouldn't be cold anymore."

Some guy with long hair was singing about drugs. I wanted to listen, but I wanted to bitch at Roxas a little more. The world is all about sacrifices. "I don't even like setting fires. I like watching them, but I don't like setting them. I do it because sometimes destruction is necessary for rebirth, but…well, to be honest, I'm kind of a pyromaniac and every time I set a fire I get lost. Sure, it's great, but I like myself too much to lose me."

"Don't you ever go through…withdrawals? Like you  _need_  to set a fire?"

"Of course. But if there's one thing I'm good at, it's controlling a situation. I have a failsafe or two in place when I go out…" One of them is named Riku, and it's very annoying. "…and that's that."

"That sounds…"

I looked at him closely. He looked confused, which was a weird reaction, but after he didn't say anything else, I finally got it. "Hannah wasn't special."

"Yes she was," he snapped. "She was probably more special than…but anyway, you have your coping mechanisms, I have mine."

"Why was she special? What did she do?"

He shrugged and turned his eyes back to the movie. "I'm pretty sure you don't want to know. Just do us both a favor and forget about her."

I wasn't sure which was worse: Roxas telling me to forget about her, or hearing that Hannah was such a bad person he wouldn't tell me what she'd done to deserve his ire. I couldn't imagine anyone deserving to be, you know, executed. I knew she was a bitch; she'd taken me, stripped me, and left me to freeze to death; but…

Actually, suddenly I didn't care. Hannah could go to hell.

"Okay," I said. "Get your feet off me."

"It's my house. I'll put my feet where I damn well please."

But I really didn't mind. That Roxas was touching me at all made me feel almost electric, but not in the way I felt around Larxene. She practically reeked of ozone and danger; Roxas was alive and his touch made me buzz.

I was attracted to him. That was the easy part. The hard part was recognizing that I was a good little criminal attracted to the kind of person who could probably destroy me if he was so inclined. It was obvious that he wasn't a predator; that was even harder to accept.

What kind of person…

I didn't want to reconsider the idea of Roxas being the hit man. I would have been dead, and he was too nice. If it weren't for Hannah, I'd probably have considered him the perfect guy.

"Then at least scoot closer, so I can leech off you too."

To hell with introspection. It never got anybody anywhere good. To hell with analysis. Roxas was suddenly pressed against my side and I couldn't really care about all those other factors. He was a fucking icicle – seriously – but it was great.

It was all great. Roxas, the movie, the empty popcorn bowl on the floor by the end of the couch. I wasn't in love or anything, but it was pretty damn perfect anyway.

* * *

My friendship with Naminé was a weird one. I didn't really like her; she was, after all, a person; but I tolerated her because she was barely there. When she was in her art-space, nobody else was there, either; I could sit by her and watch her create, and she didn't even notice.

I noticed, though. I noticed how Larxene and Marluxia bled and exploded and I leaked shadows. Larxene sometimes had less limbs than a person should have; Marluxia occasionally had more. I sometimes looked grotesque. Riku, Sora, and Kairi featured often, in her little picture books, but they were…whole. Kairi even glowed sometimes. And Naminé never entered the stories at all.

Today she was in between, cognizant of her surroundings but still living in her pencils. It was amazing, what she could do with pencils.

"Why do I look like I'm in agony?"

I'd never asked about it before, but somehow hanging out with Roxas had made me less inclined to keep things to myself. He put things into perspective; nothing I'd done was as bad as what he'd done. It would have been a pleasant thought, had I not been attracted to him.

"Because I like you," she answered blankly. "My favorite people are always more real."

"Why does Larxene have a hole in her chest?"

Here, she ducked her head and stopped drawing. "Well, I…she's my very favorite."

What? How could Naminé even  _like_  Larxene? She was catty, sarcastic, condescending, and treated everyone –  _especially_  Naminé – like trash, when she wasn't pretending to be nice. I decided I didn't want to know. Instead of pursuing that, I asked, "If she's your favorite, why do you always draw her…uh, missing vital parts of herself? Hearts, for example, are necessary to survive."

I had a vague image of Roxas repossessing Larxene's heart. I fought to keep a laugh from surfacing – first of all, it was bizarre, and second of all, Larxene didn't have a heart. Not really. She was too much of a bitch.

"Like I said, my favorite people are…real. I can't help it if my drawings reflect what's real; I can barely understand that I'm drawing at all."

She flipped a page and started anew.

Marluxia had showed up one day, Naminé in tow, seeking refuge from the Soldiers who had killed his family. He'd told us that Naminé was a very old friend, and that something had completely broken her; she couldn't remember anything from before she was fifteen, and she checked out frequently. It had been Larxene's idea to give her a sketchbook, mostly to keep her out of the way, and the drawings were a direct result.

Now, Naminé was our little witch. It wasn't magic or anything, but she always seemed to know more than she should, and sometimes drew what she saw. Nobody said  _visions,_  but…well. Nobody said  _space case,_  either.

"So you think…when you look at Larxene, you see a…hole?"

She shrugged and looked me straight in the eye. I hated it when she did that; it was like she was sliding into me and digging. It was all very violating and I only tolerated it because she did it to everybody. "You don't?"

I'd never asked her about before. It was sort of an unspoken rule; whatever we were running from, whatever we'd done or seen, was off-limits. What mattered was the future. Our future. Our lives. Our present actions. Sometimes we were even reduced to numbers; Six, Eight, Eleven, Twelve, Zero, and…Riku. He didn't have a number; he wanted an identity separate from us.

I'd never asked her, about her choice to be Zero or her drawings or anything. But if I was going to be nosy and irritating, I was going to go full out. "You see things differently, don't you?"

"I guess." She erased something and frowned before drawing a new line. "I know you don't see things the way I see them, but you can feel what I see, can't you? You can feel that Larxene's incomplete. You can feel that I'm not there. You can feel that Riku is on the edge of light and dark – he doesn't belong with us, but he does it to save Sora and Kairi, the people he actually likes – and you can feel that Marluxia is a little more than he should be. A little too dark, a little too nice, a little too feminine, a little too masculine. You can feel that Zexion is different, too. Dangerous to you, but not a direct threat. But I don't think you can feel what you are. You try too hard."

I blinked and said absolutely nothing. I was hoping if I stayed silent, she'd look up and say,  _just kidding._  Sure, I'd noticed those things, but the way she'd put it was disturbingly accurate.

She didn't. Instead, she continued, "You and I just have a different way of feeling. You feel with your heart; I feel with my eyes. Sometimes I'm jealous of you, for almost remembering and striving to be more than you were before. You became a better person – a stronger person. A nicer person. A person who can look in the mirror and be proud. I'm not as strong as you. Last time, you earned your heart, but I didn't. I'm the only one who didn't."

She looked so sad – normally, I didn't care, but suddenly I had the urge to…comfort her or something. "Well, I think you're pretty awesome."

"It's nice of you to say that." She erased, and drew again. "Memory is a funny thing, you know. If you know how it works, you can reverse it. You can remember things that haven't happened yet, or remember echoes of things your soul has seen but your eyes have not. You can remember the touch of someone's lips on your own, or the sting of her hand on your cheek. You can remember Thirteen. Um…I mean… _I_  can. Sorry, sometimes I forget I'm not talking to myself."

"I'm not gonna lie, that's really weird."

"That's okay. I'd prefer it if you didn't. Lies make people look shadowy and it's harder to see them. I disposed of his shirt so nobody would connect you to the murders."

My brain broke for a minute. I put the pieces together, my brain broke again, and I finally had enough sense to say, "Wha—"

She laughed. It sounded childishly delighted, and it was a little horrifying. "He's kind of handsome, isn't he? Thirteen, I mean. If you didn't belong to each other, I would have liked to meet him…at least one time."

Holding up the finished product, Naminé smiled at me. I could only gape at the page.

Roxas looked like he was in one of Naminé's art trances. His sleeves were soaked in blood; Hannah's lifeless eyes stared at me, but I was too interested in his face. It was focused, happy, and…almost vacant, but still present. I could have stared at it all day – but then I saw what the shadow behind him really was.

There I was, standing behind him. There was no color; I was just a ghost in grey. And for the first time in any of Naminé's drawings, I looked happy. And whole.

She blinked and dropped the sketchbook. "Who…is that? Did I draw that person? I don't like it. Axel…please…take it away. Make it go away."

I gently ripped the page from the book and patted her on the head. I wondered how many people had seen her like that – how many people had bothered to look. I thought I should feel ashamed about stumbling upon it out of nasty curiosity, but I didn't. I smiled at her over my shoulder, and later, burned her drawing.

I didn't do it for her; I did it for Roxas, and for myself. But if she ever asked, I knew I would tell her I burned it so she'd never have to see it again.

* * *

We were at his kitchen table sharing a bowl of rigatoni and vodka sauce when I asked, "What do you do for a living?"

Roxas choked on what I assumed was coffee, but it could have been blood for all I knew – or cared, actually. It had gone from horrifying to mildly irritating that I was attracted to such a weirdo, especially since we'd hung out a little more, and I just felt comfortable around him. But I figured we were at a stage in our –  _friendship? Relationship? –_  in which I could ask these kinds of questions.

Sure, I knew that he took his coffee black and that he had another freezer completely full of sea-salt ice cream, and I knew that he liked gory movies and old books and had a vague interest in cyberpunk. He legitimately owned his little condo, his car was stolen goods, and his things were strategically placed to make his living space look…well, lived-in.

I thought the shirt on the floor was a nice touch. I didn't really get why he cared about what his place looked like, but I didn't really own anything at all.

All these things were fine, but I wanted to know  _more._  I was tired of the in-between attraction stage; I either wanted to move forward or move on, but I  _hated_  stagnancy.

"Are you going to live?"

"I'll be fine." He gave me an irritated look. "I was just…that came out of nowhere."

"I had an entire thirty second thought process I'll be happy to relate to you."

Roxas shrugged. "I'm not that interested. Um, why do you want to know?"

"Because we're friends. You know pretty much everything about me-" Not exactly, but I figured it would be better to pretend he did. "I know pretty much nothing about you. Really, Roxas, sharing is caring."

"I'm a private consultant."

"I said sharing, not taunting."

I was glad to get a little huff of laughter; he didn't laugh very often, but even during a tiny moment of amusement, his whole face lit up. "That's really my job title. I'm a private consultant for big business owners; I'm pretty good at making problems go away."

I decided not to think of the rows of body bags I'd found in his spare closet while he'd showered. "What kinds of problems?"

He looked at me impassively for a moment, before shrugging. "Most of my work is classified, but…well, there's something binding about our relationship, isn't there? At this point, it's comfortable mutual blackmail. I can tell you a little. My first job was for this guy a few years ago – you'll have heard of him. His name was Yen Sid, and he was pretty close to the King before the split. I infiltrated a group of people on his orders, feeding him information, leaking codes and secrets. Stuff like that. The point was to nullify the group's efforts; I didn't care, it was just business. But then my best friend got involved and I lost everyone I cared about. I was furious, voided my contract, and took out Yen Sid – he probably didn't deserve it, but I didn't care. I  _don't_  care. Since then, I've been working for legitimate companies; HeartL.E.S.S. got me started, and mostly I just mess up big plans and raise hell for a hell of a fee."

I had a hard time believing that; Roxas seemed so mellow. Not always, but usually. "Are you sure?"

"Unless this is just one big coma dream. My last job was pretty interesting, actually; I basically got paid to pal around with the CEO of Encom. Twilight Inc wanted me to dig up some dirt and ruin the competition. Turns out there was some pretty fucked up shit going on; I didn't get involved, though, because one of his employees…well, this part is so classified  _I_  don't even have the details. Something happened, I was no longer needed, and the prick at Twilight Inc told me to take the money and run."

"So…you've probably got dirt on pretty much everybody. Is that…okay with you?"

"Well, yeah, it's fun. I certainly didn't choose this job for its insurance."

I tried not to laugh, because this was important. "What have you got on Ansem Isley?"

His face was suddenly serious. "What have you got against him?"

"Don't give me that." I frowned at him. "He's a tyrant."

"Yes, I get it, but what does that mean to you? So far, he's given jobs to people at the Castle, cleaned up the county, and opened an  _orphanage._  Everybody loves him except you. Why?"

"He kills people. For politics."

" _I_  kill people. For  _fun."_

I shrugged – sure, I was a little weirded out to know that he actually got a kick out of shedding blood, but it took a backseat to the conversation about Ansem. "Yeah, but his strategy…he's just sick, okay? Marluxia's family refused to get behind the Hollow Bastion Reform, and since his dad was a minor political figure, he had the means to go ask the King about it. Suddenly, Southern Soldiers just  _happened_  to choose that family to slaughter. The same thing happened to Sora's family." And to me. "I understand that until Ansem stood up, we were descending into anarchy, but that's no reason to…entire families were destroyed. There are no official ties to him, and maybe the orders didn't come straight from his mouth, but we all  _know._  Those soldiers are definitely in Ansem's employ. He says he works for peace, and maybe he really does believe he's doing the right thing, but I'm fighting for the people whose lives were burned to the ground."

"Okay," he said.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." He took a breath. "I just needed to be sure. Ansem knows who you are – every single one of you. Larxene is a war orphan. When the Destiny Islands region was conquered, most of those families – Riku's included – weren't admitted through the border. Those that were met a rather tragic end, like Sora's and Kairi's. Zexion grew up with Ansem – enough said – and you know who you are. Naminé led a charmed life until the shift, and she was the only witness to the Neverwas Massacre. Marluxia's family took her in, but…well. Demyx is-"

"How do  _you_  know all of this," I asked suspiciously. I had that sinking feeling again. It was starting to get really annoying.

"Really? I thought you'd figured it out by now. I'm working for him…well, he thinks I'm working for him. He's paying me to cozy up to one of you, to get inside, but I keep telling him you're really hard to crack." He laughed, a deep, full-body sound which almost chilled me. "I'm getting paid to spend time with someone I like, basically."

I stood up quickly, unsure of what to say. "So…Hannah…"

"My partner." He stood up too. "She found out that I…well, she got to you and planned for me to find you dead in the snow, but I won that round. I was just planning to take you back to the alpha base and tell Ansem I was too afraid to continue, now that Hannah was mysteriously missing, but you woke up and it was…well, anyway, I stuck around because I ended up enjoying your company."

"I'm leaving," I said.

"Are you?"

The words sounded dark and threatening, but I didn't care. "Yeah, I am. I don't appreciate being used."

"Fine." He threw up his hands. "Fine, Axel. I should have known you wouldn't understand!"

"You calling me stupid?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I just told you I like you – as in, I really, really  _like_  you – and you decided you were being  _used!_  If that-"

"It started out that way, didn't it?" I backed toward the door – there was no way I'd turn my back to him. "What, did you think I'd feel better knowing you killed someone for me? Did you think I'd fall in love? Did you think it was  _romantic?"_

"What – romantic? Are you fucking  _kidding_  me? Business isn't romantic. Romance doesn't exist! _Love_  doesn't even exist! It's just some stupid chemical hoax to get us to procreate! I killed her because she was  _in the way._  I wanted to more than just watch you like some creeper. Call me crazy, because I obviously am for almost believing it was possible to  _fall for someone,_  but it seemed wrong. I only stalk for business, not pleasure."

He had believed…what?"

"If you're just going to stand there, Axel, I suggest you leave. I need to go out and…do something, and you're in my way. You saw what I did to the last person who got in my way."

"Yeah, you killed her. To get to me."

He sighed.  _Got you._  "Get out. I really don't feel like dealing with you."

I left.

I knew that he wasn't using me. I knew that he was telling me the truth, because that kind of half-truth would only make me suspicious. I knew I'd probably really hurt him – but fuck him. He'd betrayed me in a very subtle, Axelly way; a) I didn't appreciate it, and b) I didn't want to be bested at my own game without even playing.

I wouldn't say anything to the others, but Roxas and I were done.

* * *

"Guys, I need your help."

So I wasn't as done with Roxas as I'd hoped. It had been three weeks since our last conversation – three agonizing weeks, during which I silently raged at everything and vowed revenge on various unsuspecting victims at least six times – and now, at our monthly meeting, I'd had enough.

After the fire at Ansem's lab and his subsequent dismissal of our attempts, Sora and Kairi had become more…active. They let us use their storage area for meetings, provided temporary shelter for another recruit, Xion, and gave us coffee for our late nights and early mornings.

Sora was in on our little war council, but Kairi was helping Xion; she could barely speak any Bast, and though Kairi spoke the most Twili of anyone, they could barely understand each other. I tried not to think that if Roxas had been involved, it would have been a cinch – he was fluent in Twili. And French. And Russian.

But he wasn't involved.

"What is it  _now,"_  Larxene asked irritably.

"I…" It was now or never. "I know who the spy is. I've spent the last little while getting close to him – that's where I've really been disappearing – and he finally told me everything he knows. I think he thought I wouldn't get mad or something, but…"

Could I do it?

"We have to get rid of him," I said quietly, almost inaudibly. I wasn't sure if it was my best idea or the thing that would finally tip me over the edge.

"No," Naminé said – shrieked, really. "No! Liar! You're a liar! Thirteen's a liar! I'm a liar! Everyone's a liar! You think just because you have a heart you can abuse his? You really want to pretend you don't have one, after all you did to earn it? Stupid! I hate you, I  _hate-"_

"Shut  _up,_  Naminé," Larxene snarled, smacking her hard enough to make the chair wobble dangerously on two legs.

"Hey!" Sora stood up and banged his fist on the table. "Don't you  _dare_  do that in my shop!"

"Feeling sorry for the cute little lunatic, are we?"

"Larxene," Marluxia said. While quiet, it sounded very, very dangerous. "She's not-"

"Oh, you just want her happy because she's  _useful,"_  she retorted scornfully. "If it weren't for her little spurts of intuition, you'd hate her."

Riku stood next to Sora, a deep scowl on his face. "This is ridiculous."

"You're one to talk," Marluxia retorted.

"This isn't the issue," I tried to put in, but nobody was listening. Roxas was causing waves and he wasn't even there.

Naminé's hands were covering her ears. Her eyes were shut tight, and I could see that while her face was screwed up, she wasn't crying. For once, she looked…fierce. And  _angry._  I'd never seen her look anything other than serene, or sad. I just watched her; I couldn't even keep track of the conversations around me.

Finally, Naminé's eyes flew open and she shouted. "Shut! The fuck! Up!"

The silence was absolute.

"I'm right here. You don't need…to talk about me…like I'm not here." Her words were halting and hesitant, like she wasn't sure if she was really saying them, but she plowed on in a watery but determined voice. "You're all…on the same side. Allies. Thirteen can help you so much.  _I_  can help so much…but…you don't see me. None of you see me except Axel, and that's…only because he…can't stand any of you so he spends time with me. I sometimes lose words but…I always know what you're saying. So stop talking about me like I'm retarded. Listen to each other.  _Help_ each other. If this bullshit continues, I quit."

Nobody wanted to admit what a blow that would be. If we lost Naminé, we'd most likely lose our fight. She was small and weak and…she was also the most powerful weapon we had. We were all weapons, in our own ways, but without Naminé, we wouldn't have our edge.

Seeing that no one else was backing down, I said, "You're right, Naminé. I'm sorry."

I wasn't. But if it came down to losing Naminé or losing my pride…well, it was no contest. In this case, I didn't even matter. I was Eight, not Axel. Taking down Roxas would be satisfying for Axel. Maybe even beneficial for Eight. But whatever Naminé said, I'd listen if it meant having her on our side.

"Thank you," she replied, looking me in the eye. "But I'm not just talking…about the arguing. If you go after Roxas…the same rule applies. I'll quit. I'll leave and no one will ever find me."

"We'll pursue you," Larxene said, sounding choked and almost panicked. I'd never known her to get so attached to even her favorite tools; she'd always thought everything, material or otherwise, could be replaced. She was a cynic – and so far, she'd given the impression that she really, truly _hated_  Naminé.

"Then I'll kill myself."

"You're not  _allowed_  to! I'll lock you in my room! I'll-"

"Calm down, Larxene. Naminé is right; there's nothing to be gained from arguing. Sora, Riku, sit down. There's no need for that protection you're so willing to give. No one is going to be hurt today." As if Marluxia's words had some magic power, everyone did as they were told. Naminé looked…smug, in a very shy way, as if she were ashamed of feeling that way. "Axel, I'd like to hear more about the spy."

"He…it started out as…Ansem hired him to watch us and report. Hannah, that girl who took me, was supposed to be his partner. That night I left with her…she planned to kill me. She almost did. But Roxas killed her instead and took me back to his place. He chose me to pump for information, I guess, but for some reason he stopped and…I don't even know what went on in that stupid head of his. Maybe he was lying to me, maybe he's just fucking crazy. But his hobby is killing people and his career is ruining major companies and making life difficult for people."

"I'd say that sounds pretty crazy," Sora said. "You've been using each other for information?"

"It sounds bad when you put it like that," I told him. "Wait. You've met him; he came into That Coffee Place on the day I fell and hit my head on the bar."

He laughed, sounding slightly nervous. "Are you sure he was just using you?"

"Of course not. He told me he wasn't. Some part of me believes him, but that's just the stupid part of me that…I dunno, wants him to like me. You know how self-absorbed I can be." Not quite the truth, but a little charm here and there never hurt anyone. "But if he wasn't using me, why wouldn't he tell me from the very beginning?"

"I don't know, but…when you fell…I'd never seen anyone look so upset in my entire life. He called an ambulance before anybody else even knew what to do, and he got down on his knees and held you until they came. He wouldn't let you go – maybe he's just a good actor, but it really looked like he cared about  _you._  If it was just your information he was after, he'd have gone after someone else, someone less prone to…uh, skipping days of meals and collapsing."

"Who's been skipping meals," asked Kairi, guiding Xion into the room. "Wait, never mind. Of _course_  it's Axel – you never learn, do you, honey? Anyway, guys, this is Xion. She'll be joining the beta team, since Demyx speaks Twili. I just wanted to let you know we're heading to the beta base and I'll be coming back alone."

I only skipped meals when I got absorbed in something, but it was a running joke amongst the team. It probably had to do with my skinny frame and my metabolism from hell.

"It was nice to meet you, Xion," Sora said, giving her a wide smile. She looked at him uncomprehendingly, and he sighed. "Well, I tried."

"It good encounter of all persons," she offered in a heavy accent. I was surprised to see that Larxene didn't even have a snigger to cover.

"Uh, anyway, we'll be leaving. Wave – that's pretty much universal."

I waved, along with everyone else, and Xion's eyes lit up. "Hei-svida," she said.

I didn't watch her leave; instead, I watched Zexion, who had thus far been completely silent. I knew he was thinking about something important, because his eyes were vacant and his forehead was slightly wrinkled.

"Anyway," Marluxia said, "is this Roxas person really worth our attention?"

"He's a  _spy."_

"But he cares about you," Sora reminded.

"That could be an act," Riku put in.

"Who could care about Axel?"

"I do," Naminé replied, giving her best glare to Larxene. It wasn't very effective; Larxene probably found it cute.

I rolled my eyes.  _"He is a spy!"_

"And he loves you!"

Naminé sort of shrank away from the sudden onslaught of stares, but she didn't waver. In another time, or maybe another life, I'd have been proud of her. "Right now he's lost and desperate. He'll…do anything to win you back…even…"

"Even, perhaps, slaughter three of Ansem's apprentices?"

We all turned our gazes on Zexion, who stared at me. "You said he killed his partner – that murder is a hobby. Would he kill three innocent people?"

"Innocent? Really? They're  _Ansem's apprentices."_

"And one of them was my brother, Ienzo," he said coolly. Uh-oh. Zexion was amoral and self-serving, but he had three rules: don't touch his books, don't ask stupid questions, and  _don't fuck with his family._

"Well, it doesn't really sound like his style; as far as I know, he quietly disposes of the bodies, so if it was him, you wouldn't know they were  _slaughtered."_

In truth, I thought it probably  _was_  Roxas. But Naminé's words…

Roxas couldn't love me. He believed love was a chemical hoax; maybe he was right. Maybe Naminé's perception was off. Maybe we put too much stock in what she said. She'd always been right, but maybe her 'memories of the future' were simply self-fulfilling prophecies. Maybe she gave us subconscious hints, made us stronger by thinking we were cheating destiny.

But she had known Roxas' name before I even said it.

"It wasn't Roxas," she said, "it was Thirteen."

I was sure I was the only one in the room who would know that Roxas and Thirteen were the same person; I wondered why she had made the distinction. Maybe Roxas had an alter-ego, or even an alternate personality…

No. "He's a spy."

It suddenly sounded weak.

"I get it, he fucked you over," Larxene told me. "If you're doing this for revenge and you put us in unnecessary danger, I will kill you."

After all of that talk, I realized I didn't really want to get rid of Roxas after all. It would make things easier, but I couldn't live with myself if we really took him out. Besides, if I had to deliver the killing blow…well, I'd be dead, and he'd be on the run.

"I'll see him one last time," I said, trying not to sigh. "I'll make sure he's not the one who killed your brother. If he's useless, we'll just leave him, and if he's reporting to Ansem, we should make the problem go away. Does that sound fair?"

There was a quiet chorus of consent – I knew nobody really felt comfortable with this turn of events – and I stood. "Is there anything else we need to discuss, or can I go to bed? I'm exhausted."

"This meeting is adjourned," Marluxia said. Zexion and I were actually the longest-acting members in our group, but Marluxia had somehow stepped into a role of leadership. At least it wasn't me; I didn't have the patience or the energy to put up with the collective stupidity that was our 'family' dynamics.

I ended up in the back of a crooked line out of the storage area. Standing outside the door, I dug in my pockets to make sure I had everything. Then I realized Larxene and Naminé had stayed inside.

"If you ever even suggest killing yourself again," I heard Larxene say, "I'll make you wish it was possible."

"I wouldn't…really do that to you," Naminé replied. It sounded so innocent and…pure. I hurried away before they found out that someone had intruded on their intimate moment, and tried not to think about what that meant.

Ugh.

* * *

It was one thing to  _say_  I was going to pretty much go crawling back to Roxas; it was another to actually  _do_  it. Even if I'd been fully committed, suddenly he was impossible to find. He wasn't at his house; he wasn't at the club he'd  _told me_  he frequented; he wasn't at the Castle, according to Lexaeus, and when I'd asked the representative for DiZ of Twilight Inc, he'd told me in a hushed voice that he didn't know a Roxas, and I needed to leave before he called security.

I looked him up on the internet; he didn't exist on any of the major search pages. He wouldn't pick up his phone. I found his car at an impound, gutted and smelling of ammonia. The burn site was rank and he'd even left some bones – making me wonder if he'd been careless on purpose – but he wasn't there.

I decided to hide and wait for him; it looked like he'd been busy. It was sort of morbid, but I figured it was the best way to catch him.

After several hours, I  _finally_  caught sight of him. I was reminded of our first meeting, only this time I was wearing clothes and boots and he didn't know I was there. He looked exactly the same, down to the bloodstains and the body bag over his shoulder.

Who was it this time?

…It was Even, the douchebag working for Ansem at Hollow Bastion Castle.

I watched in fascination as Roxas prepared to burn the body – and then realized why I was there. It was so easy to lose myself in his movements.

"Hey," I said, walking out of my hiding spot. I knew he couldn't leave, unless he wanted to be caught. To his credit, he didn't jump or anything, but he did give me a glare so poisonous I could practically  _taste_  it.

"What do you want," he asked. He didn't sound angry – he didn't sound anything except tired.

"I wanted to…" It was then that I realized I had no idea what to say. Talking was so easy, when it didn't mean anything, but whenever I wanted it to mean something, my mouth didn't function correctly. I tried again. "I want you. I mean, I want you to listen to – dammit, Roxas, I'm  _sorry."_

Was I? I had no idea. It had just popped out, like a verbal bogeyman.

"You're sorry." He turned around and I understood – his bodies hadn't burned properly because he hadn't been using the right kind of fire. How had he disposed of them before I came along? The protective mask was useless, so I took it off and watched him carefully. "You're never sorry."

"First time for everything."

"Why are you sorry?"

His question made my mouth flap uselessly for a minute. Apologies were always just accepted; nobody had ever challenged necessary apologies, as far as I could remember. I didn't even know why I was apologizing, but he wanted an answer, and I needed to give him a truthful one or he'd just ignore me and then disappear again.

"I don't know why." I stepped closer to him and noticed the bags under his eyes. "It just came out. I guess that means I really am sorry, because when I'm not thinking, I never lie."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I know."

"So…where do we go from here?"

"What do you mean? You go home. I go away. Or it could be the other way around, I don't really care. You made it perfectly clear that you don't want anything to do with me, so I-"

During his mini-rant, I'd been inching closer to him; I closed the distance before he could continue, and shut him up with my own mouth.

I really hadn't thought about kissing him before. Yes, there was an attraction, but when I thought about relationships, they were more…conceptual than anything. What if I loved a person? What then? It was all about what ifs, non-eventualities. I couldn't put sex into a relationship without thinking of a one-night stand, which happened to be a specialty of mine.

So why did I kiss him? What was it about him that drew me? I obviously didn't share his interests, and he needed to lighten up. We were officially on opposite sides, and maybe he didn't care what his employer wanted, but I didn't know for sure. It was, theoretically, the worst pairing imaginable.

But I wanted him. And I was used to taking what I wanted. Fortunately, he kissed back, instead of knifing me; that would have been awkward at best and fatal at worst.

I didn't really like the feel of his lips; they were too rough, and I tasted blood on them. I sort of hoped it was his blood and not, say, Even's. But he pulled away after a moment, leaned against my chest – he wasn't tall enough to reach any higher – and said, "You know, this doesn't change anything."

I shrugged, hoping he wouldn't take it to be a push. "Well, that's great, because I don't want to change, and if you changed I probably wouldn't want you anymore."

Lies. But I could put that out there anyway.

"Are you sure it's me you want? Why are you here, anyway?"

Suddenly I was a little embarrassed. "Well, the plan was to ambush you, talk to you, try to gain your trust, and make sure you really weren't going to sell us to Ansem. But I saw you, and…that didn't happen, obviously. I have a habit of not doing what I say I'm going to do."

"Yeah, I know," he responded with a tiny laugh. "I stalked you for months."

Going for something like tact, I said, "That's really creepy."

Oops. Not so much with the tact, after all.

He just laughed into my chest. The rancid smell of burning flesh surrounded us and the blood on his arms smeared onto my clothes and I still didn't fully trust him, but it felt like the best moment of my life anyway.

* * *

Demyx had brought the beta team – Luxord, Xion, and Xigbar – to our meeting, mostly to familiarize Xion with all the procedures she'd need to learn. I was a little nervous to introduce Roxas to them –  _oh, hey guys, this is our friendly neighborhood stalker –_  but instead of the hostility I'd expected, there was an uncomfortable and tearful reunion.

"Rossas!" Xion, apparently, could not pronounce the letter  _x_  properly; Larxene was Larssene, Demyx was Demyss, and I was – irritatingly – Asshole. I suspected Demyx had put her up to that one, though, as trend would indicate  _Assell._

"What the – Xion?"

Suddenly there was a lot of noise, most of which was words I couldn't understand and what some people described as happy sobs, and I was nearly knocked off my feet when Xion flew past me to get to Roxas. He held her tightly and I was only jealous for a second, because I saw his eyes roll in exasperation.

They conversed in Twili for a few minutes while the rest of us looked at each other. Most of the beta crew looked stunned; I could guess that Xion didn't do or say much when she was with them. Well, of course she didn't; she only had Demyx to talk to, and in my experience he wasn't the most fantastic conversationalist.

"What the hell," Larxene hissed at me.

"That's Roxas. I was only bringing him here to meet you guys. I didn't know they  _knew_  each other," I replied quietly.

"Wait.  _That's_  Roxas?" Demyx looked back at them, eyes wide. "Xion said he died during the purge. Her whole family was wiped out while she was stuck in quarantine."

"They're family?" Naminé eyed them speculatively. "I'm surprised I didn't see it."

Ever since yelling at us, Naminé had been a little more talkative and…present. I wasn't sure if I liked it; on the one hand, she did have some very insightful things to say. On the other, the more she talked, the more I wondered just what the hell was going on between Marluxia, Naminé, and Larxene. They were always together, and at first I'd thought Marluxia was just babysitting and dragging Larxene along for the ride…

Ugh.

I did not care. I did not want to know or find out.

"Uh…so. I'm Roxas," he said finally, standing sort of stiffly as Xion held onto his arm. I imagined it was very uncomfortable.

"Yes, I gathered that," Demyx replied. I was surprised to see that he was angry. "Mind telling us why you aren't dead?"

"Excuse me?"

"Xion told me you were dead. She cried.  _You made her cry._  But you're not dead, and…what?"

Roxas looked at him, probably considering whether or not Demyx was a crazy person. He wasn't, but out of anyone I knew – aside from Sora and Kairi, who were just weird – he was the most emotionally driven. Like me, he actively tried to experience life. Unlike me, however, he was usually laid-back and approachable. It was pretty weird to see him upset about anything.

"I could ask the same thing," he said, matching Demyx's glare. "They told me she died during a raid on her summer camp. They had me  _identify her remains._  I'm just lucky I don't do trauma – and anyway, why do you even care?"

"Xion's my partner, I  _have_  to care. Besides, I don't like seeing girls cry."

Pfft. It was more likely that Demyx had a thing for the girl. I knew he and Xion had become partners solely because he spoke Twili, and when Naminé had broken down once in front of him…well, actually, the last part was probably true. He didn't handle stress very well, and crying always caused stress for him.

"I didn't cry when I lost my entire family," Roxas said – whoa. I'd never thought of him as a predator, but at that moment, he would have outmatched the king of the jungle. Figuratively, anyway, because Roxas wasn't stupid enough to try to face down a lion. "I didn't cry when Ol – my girlf – my best friend died. Xion's always been stronger than me; she'll get over it. You should too. This has nothing to do with a  _meugh_  like you. T'nk-on  _sei,_  Xion?"

Later, I would learn that  _meugh_  meant  _passerby_  or  _interloper,_  depending on the context, and  _t'nk-on sei_  translated roughly into  _is this upsetting you?_  I understood from his posture, though, that Xion – regardless of how exasperating she seemed to be, at least in his opinion – was important, and he was going to protect her.

I wondered if he'd ever feel that way about me, but then I felt stupid and focused on the sort of amusing scenario. I could tell that Marluxia was amused, too; Sora looked ready to step in, ever the protector, but Kairi had her hand on his arm. Naminé was doodling, Larxene was busy laughing at Naminé's doodles, and Riku seemed supremely disinterested. I supposed Zexion was once again doing something with Lexaeus; he wasn't really an active part of our group, unless the situation called for it or he had pertinent information. He had replaced Vexen when…

But we didn't talk about Vexen. Ever. His betrayal had led to Xemnas' and Saïx's deaths. Fortunately, for all of us at least, he was dead too.

Fucker.

"Rossas. Demyss. Eil – uh – to please be stopping."

"Xion, it's  _please stop,"_  Roxas corrected idly. "She's right, anyway. You want her happy and safe, I want her happy and safe. Seems like we're of like mind, which means this entire thing is pointless. I just came here because Axel wanted me here."

Everyone's – even Riku's – eyes turned on me. Nobody said  _awkward,_  but…

"This is our spy. Roxas, meet the crew. Crew, meet the stalker. Can we be done now?"

"Asshole," Roxas said almost fondly.

Xion pointed to me with a wide smile, nodding vigorously. I wasn't sure if she was agreeing with the sentiment or just showing that she knew who I was, but I could see how other people  _not_  in my position would find it amusing.

I kind of wanted to hit him. But I never would; a) he would probably hit back, and b) I liked him too much.

Also c) it wouldn't be very effective.

"Well," said Larxene, standing and beginning her customary prowl around the new guy. He seemed to like it, for some reason. "You're a little short, aren't you?"

"Only to an Amazon."

"Aww, Axel, I  _like_  him," she cooed. He didn't find it as revolting as I did. Hell, he probably liked her too.

"Glad to know I have the alpha female's approval. I'm actually running behind, so if you don't mind, I have to go finish some work. Axel, are you coming, or would you rather stay behind and meet with your people? Do you need him for anything?"

"Yeah, we do," said Sora. "Sorry…Roxas, was it? No offense, but this is kind of a family matter."

He always called us a family. I figured it was because he didn't have one.

"No, I understand completely. When should I come back – to remove the bugs?"

"You  _bugged_  us?"

"Well, actually, Hannah bugged you, but the result is the same. They've been inactive for several months, but they  _are_  still working."

Xion said something in Twili which made him look vaguely sheepish. It was a new look on him. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

"It was nice to meet you all. Axel, I'll catch up with you later. Or tomorrow, or next week, or whatever."

Xion tugged on his arm and said something else, to which he shook his head and replied. I decided to buy a Twili dictionary at the first opportunity. Reluctantly, she let go, and I watched him leave; I knew that when I faced the crew, they weren't going to be very happy with me.

"I'm so glad you brought him to us," said Naminé. "I was worried you'd lose your heart again."

And suddenly, the world made sense.

* * *

I wasn't the problem. There was a problem between us, all right, but for once it wasn't my stubborn tendencies or his job.

Well. I supposed it could be classified as 'work,' but the problem was more body-shaped and he was dripping blood  _all_  over the snow. I was going to  _kill_  that groundhog if I ever got a chance for telling us spring was on its way, because it clearly wasn't.

"Roxas, you should stop doing this," I said.

"You should stop being a nag," he replied, rolling his eyes. "What, did you think that because I play nice with your people I'm suddenly a different person?"

"Well, I know this doesn't make you  _happy,"_  I told him. I really wanted to step forward, but I didn't exactly want to step on a dead body. That would be really weird. "You pretty much said it that day we talked, and you asked about…about the fire. Why the fuck would you do something if it doesn't make you happy? That makes no sense at all."

He hesitated, and then shrugged. "I have my reasons."

I think I snorted or growled or something; the sound was so horrible I annoyed  _myself._  "I don't really want to have this hanging between us."

"Don't you  _dare_  try to change me, Axel. You don't get to judge me. If you don't want to accept me, all of me, then don't pretend to accept any of me."

I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes. "If I didn't accept you, I wouldn't  _be_  here. I'm helping you dispose of a  _body,_  for Godess' sake. But it just doesn't make sense, and you're not really the kind of guy who does things if they don't make sense. I accept you, Roxas, but I don't understand you, and if you're not happy it kind of pisses me off."

He kneeled by the body – some guy I didn't know or care about – and started cutting it apart. He said that bodies burned better if they were separated; I couldn't tell if it was the truth. I personally thought he just liked mutilating the corpses, but of course I wouldn't tell him that. "These people need to die. Everyone who's ever hurt Xion, or my family, or me…if they aren't dead they'll itch in my brain until I go crazy. It happened after Xion was ki – taken. It happened after Hayner, Pence, and Olette died. You said Ansem is a tyrant, Axel…compared to the people on my radar, he's Mother Theresa or fucking Gandhi or something. They don't really matter as individuals, but…those raids in the Twilight Realm…"

"So this is revenge?"

"Not really." I kneeled down next to him so I could listen more closely; for some reason, his voice was very quiet. "I have all these faces in my head…all these pictures and sounds. I can still hear the guns. I can still feel the dirt all over me. I never forget anything, even if I sometimes lie and say I do. Only part of this is revenge, but like you, I have a message to send. Hannah was special because she was the second person I ever killed outside of my usual targets. And because she was the only obstacle between me and you. But I won't stop until my message gets through or I run out of targets."

"Who are they," I asked.

"I don't know what they call themselves, but…do you remember hearing anything about what happened to the Twilight Realm ten years ago?"

I didn't.

"Our capital city, Twilight Town, was seized by these people. They set up their base there and within  _weeks_  our people were wiped out or subjugated. Xion was already dead. Well, I thought she was; I was told she…that she tried to run and she was gunned down. When I was called in to identify the remains, I only knew that the body was wearing her clothing and the ring she would never take off, even in the river. Her head had exploded when the shot hit her. Hayner, Olette, Pence, and I escaped by pretending to be Southern Soldiers; their little guards can barely reason. They couldn't tell the difference when we were wearing stolen uniforms."

"Guards?"

"Metal monsters. Samurai, Assassins, Dusks, Dancers, Sorcerers, Snipers, Dragoons, Gamblers, and Berserkers. You can't kill them, since they're not alive…we could have fought off ten, maybe, but they'd just call for backup and we wanted to  _escape,_  not  _win._  When we started over, I thought…I thought that itch would go away, you know? We were safe, and nothing would bring Xion back. But then Yen Sid happened. Hayner, Pence, and Olette – my girlfriend – died in that fiasco. I had  _nobody._  I had nothing to live for. And I thought…you know, I might as well take down as many as I can before I die."

I frowned. "But if they're in the Twilight Realm…"

"They're not." He shook his head violently and threw the first piece into the fire. "They started coming here about three years ago. I don't know why, but that's why I jumped at the chance when Ansem offered me a job. He employed some Southern Soldiers and I…recognized a few of them. I spent days…well, it's in the past. Twilight Town doesn't matter. But when I realized they were starting talks with Ansem, I knew I had to stop it. Somehow I had to stop it. I figured just getting rid of them would be enough."

"Do you really think it will?"

"Well, I have to  _try,"_  he snapped. "It doesn't make me happy, but only Xion matters. Only you matter. Only Hayner, Pence, and Olette matter. It doesn't matter if murder isn't my cup of tea – I made it a game. I made it fun. It sucks, taking lives, but it's fun, and that keeps me going because _I don't matter._  They matter, but I don't."

"You matter to  _me,"_  I said fiercely. "You've lost yourself in this, but you have me now. I know I can't replace the ones you lost, but – Xion's alive. Larxene apparently likes you well enough to not knife you even though you put cameras in her room. Naminé's just ecstatic you exist. You don't have to-"

"Yes I do. Just like you have to fight Ansem until he does the right thing."

"We don't kill people," I argued.

"No, you just ruin their lives, make their families miserable, and sometimes even take away their means of survival. I may be a killer, but at least killing's fairly humane. You're completely heartless."

I thought of Naminé's drawings. I thought of the labs and experimental clinics we'd destroyed. I thought of Zexion's dark, angry words about Ienzo. I thought of Marluxia's family and the Neverwas Massacre and all the war orphans in Ansem's orphanages. I thought of King Mickey and the problems in the west.

I thought of anarchy. It had always seemed like a problem – hierarchy was necessary for the survival of any species – but maybe it would have been better if we'd fought amongst ourselves until things sorted themselves out or the King noticed. If Ansem hadn't come to Hollow Bastion, we would have maybe killed each other off, but we wouldn't be waging war against –

Well, okay. We wouldn't be terrorists. It was odd and a little unsettling to realize that I was, in fact, a terrorist. Our methods  _were_  pretty heartless. We were fighting for a good cause…

Our good cause. For our  _own_  good. Many people shared our views, but did we really have the right to destroy what others had built? Roxas' life had been destroyed by some unknown people who controlled the Southern Soldiers and he had lost and lost and lost until there was nothing left to lose.

Ansem was bad news. I knew it, Roxas knew it, everybody who had two eyes and a functioning brain knew it. But our similarities struck me then. He was working for what he considered to be the greater good. We were working for what we considered to be the greater good. Roxas was working for…well, he could convolute it all he liked, but that was his aim, too.

If everyone worked 'for the greater good,' it would just be chaos anyway. We had a monarch for a reason – why wasn't he here? Probably because Ansem was once a good friend of his, and assured him that all was well. Maybe the King had sent him to us, but why?

Did it really matter? I was too deeply involved to quit. Roxas was consumed by his own work. These things were factual, and my concern wasn't exactly that we weren't happy, but that we'd drift apart  _because_  we weren't happy.

You can't comfort someone if you don't know what comfort feels like. Relationships are all about give and take, sacrifices, equality. Love. Trust. Roxas and I didn't have any of those things.

"I don't think I can…help you with your goals," I told him honestly. I hoped he wouldn't drop me then and there; I would pretend all was well, but I would go crazy. Roxas had described an itch in his brain; mine would probably get so itchy I'd blow myself up just to get rid of it. I could live without Roxas, but it would be hell.

"I don't expect you to. Just like you don't expect me to kill Ansem just because you don't like him – I'm not really part of your cause."

"We don't want to kill him. We need him alive to make the changes we need. People listen to him. He reports to the King. If he's dead, someone else will just rise up and do the same thing, only maybe they'll fight back instead of just ignoring us."

"Do you think…" He threw an arm into the fire. "...Maybe you're going about this the wrong way?"

"It's not like he ever listens to our representatives," I replied, idly playing with the other arm. Then I realized what I was doing, and dropped it like a flaming potato. "He doesn't even see us. I don't even know what he looks like, now that it's been eight years."

"Well, neither do I," he told me. "Nobody does. He hides behind those stupid bandages – says his surgery went wrong. For all  _I_  know, he could be a woman with a very deep voice or…something, just pretending to be a man because psychology and history tell us that men listen to other men more than they listen to women. Which is stupid, because I've known lots of smart women, but whatever. Some people have archaic views."

"You're completely off-topic."

"So I am."

For a few minutes, I watched him throw pieces into the fire, until there was nothing left between us. He moved closer – I was glad, because I hadn't really wanted to get blood on me. I took his hand and sighed. "Have you ever thought about…what it would be like if the wars hadn't started? If maybe we'd grown up together, or met in school, or…maybe even met in another life?"

"We'd probably be on different sides then, too. Maybe even enemies."

"What? Why?"

He laughed. "Axel, for all your noise and tall talk, you're a pretty good guy. But we could never _really_  be the same. I'm too honest for your dealings, and you're too passive for mine."

"You say you're honest, and yet you're deceiving Ansem just so you can spend time with your target. Your entire job is to deceive big companies." I looked at him directly. "How is that in any way honest?"

"I just mean that I can't schmooze my way into situations," he said, shrugging. "Not like you can. My employers know that unless they give me specific instructions, I can't do my job – and my real talents lie in search and destroy. Manipulation comes naturally to you, but for me, it…practically has to be a grocery list. If we met in another life, I'd probably be some kind of soldier and you'd be that guy in management everybody likes even though he's barely likeable."

"Ooh, cold," I said, not incredibly offended.

"You know I like you. I don't talk to people I don't like, and I  _certainly_  don't bring them to a burning ground."

He made a lot of sense to me. I didn't want him to make sense, but he did. I wondered if Ansem really deserved…

No. No matter what, I wouldn't ask Roxas to kill him. It wasn't that I thought he wouldn't do it; I knew he'd do it in a heartbeat. But my cause wasn't his cause, and if I got him mixed up in mine, everything would be ruined. If he killed Ansem, everyone would know, and he'd be taken away forever.

Besides. If anyone deserved to kill him, my little family did.

* * *

Larxene had her taser ready. The target was one of Roxas' Southern Soldiers – not that I wanted to muscle in on his territory or anything, but Naminé recognized him. He had been there at the Neverwas Massacre, had stood over her mother's body and laughed.

Interrogation wasn't usually our thing, but he  _was_  working with Ansem, or so it seemed. If we could get revenge for Naminé and get information, we would do what we had to do.

"I'm not sure about this," I told her. "It feels like a trap."

"Zero sees his face for a second and you assume it's a  _trap?"_

How irritating. She was always irritating. "They  _always_  have their helmets down. He was walking around with his helmet in his hands, and he  _just so happened_  to pass right by you at the grocery store. The stalker hasn't made any progress with us, officially, so Ansem's probably getting restless. Infiltrating Hollow Bastion Castle is pretty much suicide, if he knows who we are."

"Let them bring it on. I can take care of myself."

"I can't," I told her bluntly. "I don't have a weapon on me, and even if I did, I can't move in this stupid suit. There isn't going to be a fire; I shouldn't have had to wear this at all."

"Don't be stupid. I'm grabbing the soldier; you're setting a diversionary fire on the other side of the castle."

I shook my head, stopping, and she had to stop or leave me behind, and this operation was too tricky to take risks like that. "I wasn't told about that. I'm not doing it."

"You scared?" She scoffed. "You've turned into a little pussy, Eight."

"There are  _people_  in this castle," I reminded her. "One of our rules is we don't kill people. I don't necessarily have any qualms about murder, but that would make us no better than  _they_  are. And that's unacceptable. Detrimental to our cause."

"So you'd better make damn sure you contain that fire, because I'm  _getting_  this stupid fuck for Zero and if we fail, it's on  _you."_

I wished there was another way, but there wasn't – and even if I tried to suggest one, she'd just zap me anyway. Naminé was a trigger point for Larxene; I'd always thought it was because they couldn't stand each other, but now...

I didn't know anything anymore. I only knew that there was something wrong. I'd never been one to trust 'intuition,' but even  _I_  knew to trust the feeling. Larxene was too…emotionally involved, at least as much as the bitch could be.

"Whatever. If this little mission is a success, but somebody dies, it's on  _you."_

"What was it you said?" She smirked at me. I felt like setting  _her_  on fire. "Oh, yes. You told me I'm practically a sociopath anyway. So I guess that won't grate on my  _nonexistent conscience,_  will it? Grow up, Eight. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices. Do your goddamn  _job_  and this conversation will have been completely unnecessary."

Oh, I'd create a diversion. Just not the one she wanted. Roxas had sort of showed me what it was like to kill a person – to have that person's existence between your palms, and squish it like a bug – and even vicariously it turned my stomach. There was only one cure.

I would have to do it myself. Just once. Just to get the little thoughts out of my head.  _Homicide 101,_  indeed.

"I'll meet you in twenty minutes," I said. "Don't be late."

"Get the fuck out of here," she replied. She left toward the makeshift barracks in the Castle; I left toward the library, where Lexaeus was sure to be. If I was lucky, I'd catch Zexion there too, helping his best friend pull the night shift. They could tell me where to find the most despicable person in the Castle.

* * *

He had looked just like Riku. Had called himself Riku. Had tried to fight like Riku. But I knew it wasn't Riku, because I'd texted him, just to make sure, and the answer was  _wtf, asshole. I'm sleeping._

Zexion had told me the Riku lookalike had been an experiment of Vexen's who had gotten loose and became Ansem's personal watchdog. He spoke arrogantly, executed for barely passable reasons, and tortured mercilessly – he quite literally did not have a heart. Vexen had made him a mechanical one, but had not taught him what emotions were. He had not taught the Riku replica the value of human life.

Killing someone in their sleep seemed dirty and underhanded, but that suited me just fine. I was dirty and underhanded. But the feeling…

It was still there. I knew that no matter how many times I washed my hands, the Shakespearian spot on my hands would never come out. So I didn't even try. Instead, I put away my suit, splashed my face with water, and went downstairs to listen in on Larxene's little interrogation.

"I think you know exactly why you're here," an emotionless voice said, and I was almost appalled to hear that it was Naminé. She was not Larxene. I hadn't known she was capable of sounding so…cold. It was, quite literally, chilling.

"What-"

"Shut up. I don't want to hear your excuses. I'm not going to ask you why you desecrated my mother's body. I'm not going to ask why you…why…" She faltered. Then she cleared her throat and continued, "You've done horrible things to a lot of people, but we don't want to know about them. We already have proof of your guilt. What we want is everything you know about Ansem's plans for the City."

"Why should I tell you  _anything?"_

"Because if you don't, my associate will start cutting. She'll start with the skin on your fingers. Then she'll move up your arms. If you continue to resist after your skin is off, she'll cut you apart, joint by joint. But don't worry; we'll cauterize your wounds so you don't bleed out. Now, I'm going to leave the room and the nice man with pink hair will start asking questions. Whatever happens after that is out of my hands."

I leaned – almost collapsed – against the wall next to the doorframe. I had expected that from Marluxia, maybe. I probably would have said something like that. But Naminé? She was almost as pure as Kairi.

…Well, actually, she wasn't. She saw whatever she could remember and she  _did_  sometimes have those shifts in personality. She drew death and pain and told us who, exactly, was most vulnerable. She was Zero, our most powerful weapon. She didn't hate often, but when she did, something nasty always seemed to happen.

This man had killed her family and done…something else. I knew if I asked, I wouldn't like the answer, no matter what it was.

When Naminé came through the door, she almost collapsed on top of me, and when I caught her, I noticed she was like a feather – light and shaking. I could see tears streaking down her face. I wondered if I should do something warm, like comfort her or dry her tears, but I had no idea what to do. I ended up half-supporting her to the kitchen and patting her head before sitting down next to her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

There was a scream. I pretended not to notice, and I pretended not to notice her flinch. "I've never…I. Axel, I…did you hear what I said?"

"Of course." I wavered between patting her hand and running out of the room. I compromised by getting up to start boiling some milk – she'd want hot chocolate. It always made her feel better, for some reason. "I was surprised, actually. You did a good job."

It was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, because she burst into sobs, which only got louder when we heard another high-pitched scream. "How could I say those things? I was so  _angry…_ I was supposed to tell him if we didn't…if we didn't get…the information…we'd torture him."

"Well, you did," I told her, searching through the cupboards for the tin of powder.

"But I made all of that up! I…and Larxene will think it's a great idea…he's going to be flayed alive and cut to pieces if he doesn't talk!"

"Serves him right, after what he did to you." I turned around and looked her in the eye, even though I really didn't want to. Even with the tears, it felt completely violating. "Some people deserve to die. I really believe that. He'll only get tortured if he doesn't cooperate, so any unnecessary pain is his own fault."

"This is  _Larxene,"_  she said flatly, and I was really glad her tears were drying. It was always uncomfortable when people cried in front of me. "She'll torture him anyway."

"I guess that's one of the risks of being with us," I mused. "To be honest…I know this is kind of taboo, but we're terrorists, Naminé. A vigilante group trying to undermine the governing power. We're going to get amoral. We'll do terrible things until we get what we want. We don't usually torture people, and we definitely don't kill people, but tonight is a special case. This isn't just about Ansem. This is about  _you._  Larxene won't rest until your loss is avenged, and that fucker deserves it. Don't cry for him. Any one of us, except maybe Riku, would feed him through a wood chipper feet first. Nobody fucks with our family."

I let out a small unintentional  _oof_  when Naminé nearly tackled me. It was only quick reflexes that kept me from burning my hands on the stove. "You're really the nicest one here, Axel," she whispered into my stomach. "You really love us. Larxene's territorial and Marluxia's a pragmatist, Riku's looking out for his friends and Sora wants to save the world. But you really care about all of us, even the ones you don't like."

"Which is everyone," I said uncomfortably. I hadn't considered the idea of  _love_  before. I didn't care about them; I tolerated them for the sake of…

Well, okay. Maybe I loved them, in a sort of obscure, squinty way. But I sure as hell didn't  _like_ them.

"Don't worry, I won't tell." I wondered how she could go from weepy to mischievous in a matter of seconds. I figured I had a  _really_  good way with words, much better than I'd previously thought. "You know…you're the best…fake brother a girl could ever ask for."

"Okay, okay," I said, gently pushing her away. "I'm not into all that mushy stuff. You're welcome, I'm awesome, now go sit down. I'm making hot chocolate and you're going to like it."

"Of course."

If I was Naminé's brother and Larxene was Naminé's…well, either Larxene was her dog or her keeper. If Marluxia was Naminé's best friend and Riku was her unofficial protector…

We really were a family. It was funny how the one person who never asked for anything had it all. In that moment, I almost felt envious of Naminé, but then I realized I had the one thing she'd never have: our friendly neighborhood stalker.

* * *

Carefully, I asked, "What would you do if your cause suddenly had no meaning?"

Roxas looked at me sharply. "My cause will  _always_  have meaning…but you're talking about yours, aren't you? What happened?"

His couch was cozy and for the first time, we could sit on it without blankets. I realized I'd known him for about four months; we'd met in late January, and it was now May. There was some stupid television show in the background, on mute because the main character's voice was really annoying. Roxas watched it religiously because Olette, his dead girlfriend, had been a minor character who only used sign language.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

"We captured someone and…interrogated them," I said. "He told us some things we weren't expecting."

"How did you dispose of the body," Roxas asked curiously.

"How do you know if we killed him?"

"Would you really let him go?"

I laughed lightly. "Good point. By the time Larxene was done with him, he was easy to…scatter. People will be looking for him, but we've blown up all the forensics labs over time, so unless they bring in outside help – which is unlikely, since our esteemed  _leader_  doesn't want to attract attention – then finding and identifying him will be impossible."

"I wondered why I'd never heard about any murders on the news. Sometimes missing persons, of course, but…huh. I guess you and I are even; I saved you from Hannah, you saved me from the law."

"That's really fucked up."

He laughed. "Yeah. Anyway, why did you ask me about cause? What did he tell you?"

"Ansem is not Ansem." I clenched my fists. "This entire time, we've been fighting an  _impostor._  I always wondered why the nightmare started five years  _after_  Ansem rose to power…we've been blowing up important buildings and threatening important people and carrying out our threats, but if we'd gone to the King in the first place, he would have sorted it out immediately."

I could hear a shake in Roxas' voice when he asked, "Why  _didn't_  you guys go to the King? I never thought to ask before, but…it seems like the most logical course of action."

"We tried," I replied. Luckily, my voice didn't shake, but I could feel it in my chest. "Originally, we had three more members. Vexen, Saïx, and Xemnas. We were just a bunch of  _kids_  who wanted to make a difference. We had all sorts of plans and ideas…and more than anything, we all wanted a family, so we decided to…adopt each other. We decided Xemnas, Saïx, and Xigbar would quietly go and request an audience with the King, and wait there until they were seen. I mean, His Majesty's a pretty fair guy; we knew the chances were high."

"And?"

"Vexen betrayed us. He told Sora we were going to kill Kairi and Sora got so scared he turned to Ansem for help. When they were at the border, Xemnas and Saïx got killed. Xigbar lost an eye, but he managed to gun down their assailants and get back home. It wasn't hard to deduce what had happened, especially when Naminé talked to Kairi. Sora…he was so angry. I have never seen him without a smile, except at that time. He and Vexen had a fight, and…Vexen lost. He was so beat up it was disgusting…he crawled into my room – that's where we kept the medical supplies – and begged for help, but I wouldn't give it to him. He came at me but I dodged, and…he fell out of the window. It was a freak accident, but I told everyone I pushed him."

"Why?"

"So they'd be afraid of me and leave me alone. You know,  _hey, I've taken a life before, you could be next._  It was so long ago that they don't think of me as the guy who pushed someone out of a window, but…I'm the guy who  _will_  push someone out of the window, at least to them. That's why they're all sort of afraid of me, even though there's no reason to be."

He took my hand – he was ice cold, and it was uncomfortable, but I wouldn't pull away – and asked, "And that's why you didn't go to the King? Because you were on the radar, and you were afraid the same thing would happen?"

"Yeah." I wanted to lean into him, but I didn't do it.

"And what does this have to do with Ansem – or, the impostor?"

"Someone's been posing as Ansem for years. Remember the 'surgery?' The bandages he wears…those are just to cover his real face. He came here from the Twilight Realm to expand the Nobody power, but he didn't expect so many people to stay loyal to the King. The Southern Soldiers were brought in for backup."

" _What?"_  His voice was low, and it gave me the chills – the good kind. We'd never talked about sex, but it sounded like a good idea. "This is…I'm  _very_  angry right now."

I could tell.

"Axel…I need you to distract me."

I could think of a thousand ways to distract him, but I wanted to be sure. "Distract you?"

"I  _really_  want to kill something right now. Distract me. I don't care how, just…keep me occupied until I calm down."

My smile was sharp – I could feel it – when I shifted to nearly crush him. "It'll be  _my_  pleasure."

* * *

I wasn't sure what brought me to the church. I wasn't religious, at least not anymore; the Goddess had failed, if she even existed at all, and the God some people believed in couldn't possibly do a better job. My parents had made the pilgrimage to the World that Never Was, in the heart of the Twilight Realm, in order to pray in the most holy spot – and it had been my dream, until I turned thirteen. Then there was the invasion…

I supposed I was feeling nostalgic. Mom had been a Priestess, and…I missed her. I missed them. I missed my little brother; I couldn't even remember his name. Funny how my catchphrase was  _got it memorized_  and I couldn't even remember their names or faces.

I didn't really want to remember.

"You look lost, dear one," said a pretty voice behind me. I turned around and looked straight into Mom's eyes – but it wasn't Mom. Her dress was pink, her face was soft, and she was carrying flowers.

"Well, I'm in a church," I said flatly. "Obviously I've lost my way. I don't even know why I came here; I don't believe in the Goddess."

She laughed. "The Goddess always calls her children when they need her most. She loves us all…even the ones who don't want to acknowledge her. Even the ones who have done terrible things. She is balance. Why don't you want to be here?"

"My parents were killed in a church." I didn't know why I told her, but nobody repeated anything that was said in a church, so I knew she would keep it safe. "Mom was teaching us that the Goddess gives and takes – balance, like you said – and that we needed to pray for her wisdom, not for our lives. It was  _right then_  that the Soldiers barged in. They said the Goddess was dead and there was no need for superstition, and that we were all going to be examples. I wasn't supposed to be there, since she was doing a special thing for the adults, so I was hiding in one of those cupboard things and watching through a crack. They killed my mother last. They made her watch…told her to pray to the Goddess to spare their lives, but she wouldn't. Then they…it was…there was blood  _everywhere._  They didn't bother to check the cracks, so I lived. I haven't been to church since. I guess I just miss them. I'm not usually this sentimental, though, so I must be sick or something because I'm clearly not thinking straight."

She had been so brave, smiling in the face of death because she trusted in a force that didn't exist. Her smile had been the reason I joined up with Xemnas when he found me; I wanted to be strong like her. I knew that if the Goddess hadn't saved the most perfect, beautiful woman I'd ever met, then she obviously didn't exist, so I wanted to  _change_  things. Pacifism was for the dead.

It was then that I started setting fires. My first was that church.

"You've been through so much. Your mother was right; the Goddess took, but she also gave. You have a purpose in this world. The Goddess doesn't like to see suffering, but she can't interfere; there is no destiny, only choices. But sometimes she can protect us. She protected you, dear one; now you have a duty to fulfill."

I rolled my eyes. "And what is this  _duty?"_

"I thought you didn't believe in her?"

"I'll pretend for a couple of minutes." I shrugged. "Advice is advice, regardless of the source."

"I'm sorry to tell you that I don't know," she said. I wasn't sure if she sounded sad or not. "Only you can know this. But if you do as your mother suggested, and pray for wisdom, perhaps you'll find your answer."

"I…thanks…uh, what's your name?"

"Aerith," she said. "Aerith Gainsborough. I'll leave you to pray, or to leave, if you wish; feel free to come back whenever you like."

"Thanks," I said.

"You're welcome."

I watched her exit the chapel and sighed. The Goddess didn't exist, but…if there was any chance Mom could see or hear me…maybe I needed closure. I'd been running from it, avoiding holy places and laughing at religion for years.

I sat in the front row and stared at the Sun and Moon mural. "Hey, Mom."

I looked around to make sure I was really alone; I felt incredibly foolish. "You're probably not listening, and I know this won't really make a difference, but…I miss you. I don't remember your name or what you look like, but I really do miss you. Aerith got one thing right; I am completely, totally lost. Everything's so fucked right now. The things we thought we knew suddenly turned out to be wrong. A couple of days ago I had sex with a mass murderer who I only met because he stalked me for months. I'm a pyromaniac who refuses to set things on fire, at least until I need to. I'm a political terrorist and I help dispose of dead bodies. I hate people –  _hate_  them. People only make everything worse. They're disgusting and  _I'm one of them."_

I didn't know what to say next. I supposed I didn't need to say anything at all, but I still felt…incomplete. "To be honest, Mom, I barely feel anything anymore. I try so hard to feel as much as possible, but lately I just…can't. I'm good at blocking it out, but not so good at shifting back and forth. Naminé says I 'earned' a heart, whatever that means, but I think it's disappearing. The only thing I notice is fear and thrill. I can't even tell when I like things. Somebody – I can't remember who – used to call me a little crybaby, but I don't even remember what it's like. I have a boyfriend, but I can't talk about it with him; he's that mass murderer I slept with. I have a little makeshift family, but I hate them because they happen to be human. I don't know what to do, I…"

Then I felt it. It started in my chest, crawling up like ivy until it reached my nose and I opened my eyes wide to stop it, but I couldn't. It was absolutely pathetic, I knew – sobbing in an empty church – but I really couldn't stop it. I curled up like a child and cried until I couldn't see, and sometime after that I fell asleep.

It was real sleep, the kind that makes you feel rested in the morning.

* * *

"Axel," someone hissed, and I tried to open my eyes, but they were glued shut. I felt something hard and wooden under me and I panicked for a moment before I realized I was still at the church.

"I'm awake," I mumbled.

"The fuck are you doing in a place like this?" It was Roxas. I pulled the crust out of my eyes and hoped I hadn't pulled out too many eyelashes.

"Just came to visit my parents," I said, and immediately regretted it.  _Regret._  There was something new.

He snorted. "There's nothing  _here._  Just a broken roof and a couple of pews. Besides, didn't you live in the east end?"

"That church was burned down a long time ago," I told him, sitting up – and then I did a double-take. There really was nothing – even the mural was faded and had cracked in two. The roof was gone. A flower patch was in the middle and showed no signs of having been disturbed.

"This…wasn't broken last night," I said dumbly.

"Come on, it's been broken for years. Nobody comes here anymore; people say it's unlucky or something, and religious people think it's bad to go into abandoned churches. Crazy, all of them."

"There was someone here last night," I told him. I stretched and my back popped a few dozen times. "We talked for a while, and then she left."

"Obviously she isn't aware of the superstitions, or she's smart enough to see through them. Did you get a name?"

"Yeah. Aerith Gainsborough – it's weird, because I've never heard that…surname…Roxas?"

He had…well, nearly collapsed next to me. It wasn't a good picture. "Roxas?"

"Don't lie to me," he whispered.

"What? Why would I lie? Hey, if she's someone who fucked you over, I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"Don't be stupid, she wasn't capable of…Axel, you must have heard wrong. Aerith Gainsborough is dead, along with her daughter."

"Well," I said, rubbing his head like a dog – I wasn't good at comforting people – and shrugging. "Maybe there's another Aerith running around out there. It's not a common surname, but…"

But what? I wasn't sure what to say.

"They were a very old family. Aerith was really the last of that line, until…until she fucked some nobody and had a kid, just before we escaped together. That kid…she…they died together. Hayner saw it. Killed himself the day after. Olette was my girlfriend, but he was  _in love_  with her."

"Ah." I  _really_  didn't know what to say. "Well…maybe it was a hallucination. Maybe I heard the story somewhere and subconsciously I…yeah, I don't really know what to say here, sorry. Even after spending the night I still don't know why I'm here."

" _The Goddess always calls her children when they need her most,"_  he said. I could hear venom in his voice. "That's what Aerith used to say. Olette dragged me to this church  _every Sunday_  and I had to hear that catchphrase. It's a bunch of bullshit."

I decided not to tell him that was what the dream-Aerith had told me. It was too weird. "Well, my parents died in a church…I guess I just wanted to say goodbye, you know? I burned down the church they died in, so it isn't like there's much left."

"Closure," he said softly. "Did it help?"

I thought for a moment. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm guessing it's something like a placebo; it's either the place or it's just my head, but either way, I don't feel like burning down  _this_  church, which is something that's never happened before. I don't actually burn down churches, because they're pretty, but usually I really want to."

"Did you cry?"

"Of course not."

Lies. But I didn't have to tell him that.

"Oh," he said almost sadly. "I was going to ask what it was like."

"I'm guessing it feels good," I said carefully. "After it's all done, I bet you feel empty – the good kind of empty, like…"

"Like after you piss," he said. "Come on, churches give me the creeps."

I could tell he was just as good at pushing away anything that could possibly hurt him, and I wondered when he'd try to push me away. I wondered how hard I'd have to hold on if I wanted to keep him. But it wasn't really a question of  _if._

I stood up and took his hand. He stood up when I pulled – which was good, because otherwise he would have just fallen back down; he was a  _heavy_  son of a bitch – and I put my arm around his shoulders. He wriggled, trying to get away, but I just squeezed his shoulder and shot him a nasty grin. "Don't you want to have church sex?"

"Don't you want to keep your balls?"

I laughed – I didn't really feel like laughing, but I was good at faking it. "Don't you like my balls?"

He finally pushed me off. "Can we just stop talking about this?"

It was funny that a serial killer could be so prudish. It was kind of cute. Not that I'd ever tell him that. "Okay, fine. I have work today; meet me at That Coffee Place and I'll give you a discount."

He rolled his eyes, but didn't say no. I wasn't sure if Sora and Kairi had really accepted him, but he was allowed in the coffee shop, and that was enough for me. And besides, I didn't care what they thought. I was my own man.

Well. I was probably Roxas' man. But I was okay with that.

* * *

There was a heavy silence when I entered the alpha base. Originally, it had been a little motel, but before Ansem's rise it had been abandoned. We leeched power off the network and took advantage of the internet provided by Twilight Inc next door – for a computer company they were _really_  bad with security – and running water was a requirement for all buildings, so basically we lived for free.

Officially we were squatters. Even if we had jobs.

I knocked on the wall, but the silence persisted. It was rare that everyone was out at the same time; even on missions, we didn't take everyone. I carefully moved forward – even the hall light wasn't on – and then blacked out completely when something hit me over the head.

* * *

"-xel. Axel.  _Axel."_

I blinked. It was sort of dark, and I knew I wasn't at home, or at Roxas' place. I wasn't even in one of the spare beds at That Coffee Place. I didn't know where I was and I  _didn't_  like that. I didn't like losing control.

But I knew I was with Roxas. Hmm. We really needed to stop meeting like this.

"I'm awake." Hadn't I said that to him just a few hours ago?

"Good. We have to move soon."

I sat up and immediately wished I hadn't. My head was  _pounding._  "Did you get the license plate on the  _truck that ran over my head?"_

I felt his hand on my forehead. "Sorry about that. I know it was crude, but I had to knock you out and put you in a bag. It was the only way to get you out of there without being noticed."

"The only way?" I was very annoyed, and even  _I_  could hear it in my voice. "You're really telling me that was the only way?"

"Well, I could have put you in a dress and pretended you were my date, but we didn't have time for that. Now, here, I have some clothes –  _men's_  clothes – and some hair dye for you. Follow the instructions on the label. Don't touch anything with your bare hands, though; wear these gloves. Come back out when you're finished."

I frowned and –  _whoa._  He looked…completely different, but he had hardly changed a thing. His hair was still blond and messy, his eyes were still ocean blue, and his mouth was still pressed into a stern line, but somehow he was taller and broader and that black getup was…well, really hot, especially compared to the baggy, nondescript clothing he usually wore.

"Why," I asked.

"I'll explain when you're finished. Go as fast as you can, but make sure you get  _all_  of your hair. Red stands out, especially when your eyes are so vivid. Go!"

I went. Something was definitely wrong, but I didn't know what, and part of me wanted to stand my ground and demand an explanation…but Roxas sounded  _panicked_  and if the situation was dire, I didn't want whatever Roxas had predicted to actually happen.

* * *

My clothing hugged me a little too tightly, which was saying something, since I was as skinny as a rail. But that wasn't really my main complaint. No; Roxas had  _cut my hair._  It now looked like porcupine quills and it was  _black_  to boot. Roxas had told me it was better than hedgehog hair, but I didn't believe him.

"All right," he said quietly. We were still in the dimly lit place. "From now on, your name is Zack. You can call me Cloud. We're making a stop at a friend's house and once we get a car, I can explain everything to you. Just follow me and act…I don't know. Cool, or something."

Or something. I pretty much just slinked after him like a petulant child.

I noticed that we had been in the basement of Twilight Inc, and I wondered why there was a full bathroom there, but I didn't actually want to ask. I was pretty sure the answer was too weird for a normal person to comprehend, and Roxas only comprehended it because he was a complete psycho. But I understood why he'd had to carry me in a bag. I didn't forgive him, though. I was going to give him hell once I knew what the hell was going on.

We walked. I didn't know how far we walked and I didn't know how long it took us, but I followed him until we reached our destination. I kept wondering why I was following him at all; he hadn't told me anything. I highly doubted he'd go through all this trouble to hide my identity if he was planning on turning me over to the fake Ansem, but who knew? He was, as previously stated, a complete psycho.

It was a small house with a stained glass window, a tiny replica of the Sun and Moon window often found in Twilit Chapels. It reminded me of Aerith. Roxas knocked sharply on the door and when it opened, I saw…myself, really, only with dark eyes instead of green. Roxas had cut my hair to look exactly like his, and the hair color matched as well.

It was creepy.

"Hey, Zack," he said. "Long time no see."

Zack. Why was he…my head hurt too much to ask questions.

"Cloud?" The man seemed choked and hoarse. If he was going to cry, I'd probably throw a temper tantrum right there on his doorstep. "Ah…I see. Roxas. Come in. You and your…why does your friend look like me?"

"It's a long and funny story," Roxas said, laughing. I knew it was fake, but only because I knew him so well. "I just…ah, well, I'll gladly tell it to you, but first, may we use your computer?"

"Sure, of course." I shut the door behind me and watched Roxas tail Zack. Something was definitely wrong. "Hang on. You know me and my passwords."

"I was planning on the wait." He sounded so artificial. As soon as Zack sat at the computer, my eyes widened – Roxas put a gun to his head. Wasn't he an old friend? "Type in your password, Zack."

"You know that doesn't scare me," the man said, but he started typing anyway. "What's with the paranoia?"

"You can't be too careful these days."

"And your friend there needs a new identity," Zack surmised. "You could have just called."

"I couldn't take that chance. Besides, I'm trying to prove a theory." Roxas cocked the gun. "Passwords, identification, birth certificate."

"My passwords are in a document titled  _Crap._  The other stuff is in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. What's your theory?"

Roxas hesitated, and then said, "You stopped living when your wife and daughter died, but you couldn't kill yourself and you had too much professional pride to let yourself get killed or captured. If I'm wrong, call the police."

Zack didn't move.

"I'm serious, I'm going to kill you in about thirty seconds if you don't call them."

He still didn't move. But softly, he said, "I'm not even really here. Sometimes I think I'm already dead; she comes to me sometimes. She calls to me. I don't care if you kill me; just make sure that guy by the door really deserves my identity."

I closed my eyes just as the gun went off. I wasn't squeamish or anything, but brains were just icky. I could dissect cow hearts, but brains…I could barely stand to think about it. In seventh grade, I'd actually thrown up when Jack killed Piggy for his glasses.

"Sorry you had to see that," Roxas said. "We don't have time to burn him, but he doesn't deserve that anyway. I'll go bury him; you get everything you need to establish your new identity."

"What the  _fuck_  is going on," I asked. I was almost proud of the dangerous tone in my voice, but mostly I was just really confused and angry.

"I told you I'd explain when we were in the car! Now come on."

I ground my teeth together and did as he said. I was in this now; I couldn't exactly leave him. I didn't know exactly what was waiting for me at home, but I did know Roxas might kill me if I tried to get away.

Zack Fair's identity was actually really easy to steal; he had it all in one space, almost as though he wanted to get rid of it anyway. My hands were shaking, but I wasn't going to let panic overtake me; I turned everything into a rhythm, soothing my nerves. I told myself it was okay; Zack had wanted to die. He'd known what would happen if he didn't call the cops. He'd known Roxas would pull the trigger.

If his wife and daughter were dead, Roxas had probably done him a favor. That didn't make it any less bizarre.

Aerith had been his wife. That meant Olette had been his daughter – well, according to the information on his computer, his  _step_ daughter. Still. He must have missed her as much as he missed Aerith. I wondered for just a moment if ghosts were real, because I'd seen Aerith too, but I dismissed it. It was just a dream based on information I'd gleaned subconsciously.

I shut down his computer after writing down all his information, put all the paperwork in a neat pile, and waited for Roxas to return. I didn't want to be out there while he was digging a grave; it seemed too morbid, even for me. And I was in love with a serial killer, so that really was saying something.

Presently, he came back, looking shaky and suspiciously emotional. "Come on. We're taking Zack's car."

Stealing a dead man's car. It wasn't as bad as stealing his identity. "Where are we going?"

"I promise, I'll tell you everything once we're on the road."

"I can't leave my family," I told him.

He shook his head. "If you don't come with me, you'll die."

"No. I'm going home."

"Don't make me knock you out again," he said exasperatedly. "I'll give you all the explanations you want  _once we're in the car!"_

I followed him, mostly because the house suddenly seemed oppressing and grim. As soon as my seatbelt was on, I demanded, "Tell me now."

The engine came to life and Roxas eased out of the driveway. Once we were straight on the road, he said, "Naminé called me earlier today."

I blinked. "Okay?"

He sighed. "It didn't make a lot of sense. She told me she remembered they all got captured, and that you were going to be taken as soon as you got home. But she has those flashes of inspiration, so…I pretty much raced to your base, but I was too late. They were all gone."

My stomach dropped. "Wait a minute…"

"I'm going to use my contacts to see if they're still alive, but Southern Soldiers can be disgustingly ruthless. The fake Ansem won't be a problem…but they're still around, even though their numbers are greatly decreased, thanks to me."

"So you waited around until I came home, knocked me out, and stole an identity? Why?"

"Because I figured you'd want to save your friends," he said shortly. "I don't care about them, but I care about you, and because you want to save them…so do I."

I figured it was probably the closest he'd ever come to saying he loved someone, because he seemed extremely uncomfortable. I didn't want it to turn into an awkward silence, so I asked, "Where are we going now?"

"The beta base. Xion's there. We have to warn them."

I wondered if he cared about anyone or anything that wasn't called Axel or Xion.

"Why Cloud? Did you kill him?"

His laugh was sharp and sad. "No, he was my dad. I kept his death hidden, because I wanted…I wanted some part of him. He didn't love my mom at all; basically she was only a nanny for Xion and me. After my birth mom died, he only got remarried so we'd have a maternal figure in our lives, but I loved her. The memories were enough. But Dad was only around so often, and I needed something material. Nobody missed Cloud Strife, just like nobody will miss Zack Fair…and maybe somebody might miss you, but no one will miss me. We can disappear."

"I don't want to disappear. I have work to do."

"The fake Ansem's dead," he told me. "I killed him out of necessity last night – he figured me out – so I guess it's my fault the Soldiers moved in on your base. Sorry, but everything's pretty much fucked up anyway. Once we get your friends out of…wherever they are, we're going to send them to the King along with the beta crew. You can go with them, if you want…but I have to stay here and finish what I started."

"As long as they're safe," I said carefully, "I'd rather stay with you."

"That…makes me really happy." I could see a smile – it still lit up his face, and it was still beautiful. "Thank you."

Mushy stuff really wasn't my thing. "Uh…you're welcome."

But we had more important things to deal with.

* * *

Watching Xion walk away was visibly hurting him. I could tell because I knew him; I knew that when he was feeling particularly strongly, he made faces at the entire world. Like maybe if he pretended he was better than they were, they wouldn't look.

Well, that and he didn't shrug off the arm I'd put around his shoulders.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he whispered. "I just found Xion and I'm…I'm putting her on a  _bus_ with a slacker, an old guy, and…another old guy. I could never see her again."

"But she'll be safe," I told him.

"Maybe she'll be safe.  _Maybe._  That bus could barrel off a cliff or get hijacked or she could walk into a store getting robbed or…anything could happen."

I tried to laugh, and mostly succeeded. "Roxas, just let it go. You're doing what's best. When all of this is over, we can go find her. But if the  _entire_  alpha base was taken, what's going to stop them from taking the beta team, too?"

"I  _know_  all of this. I don't know why I can't just be rational about this. It's annoying." He  _did_  shrug off my arm then. "You've changed me for the worse, Axel. Just so you know."

"Come on, it's not a crime to have a heart," I told him.

He shrugged. "I don't have a heart. Come on, Axel. Now that they're out of the way, we can move against the Soldiers. Well, I guess…we can sneak in. Ugh, subtlety isn't my strong suit, so you're going to have to take the lead on this one."

I wanted to ask why he thought he didn't have a heart – my mind kept wandering back to when Naminé had told me I  _earned_  a heart – but he was right; we had to move. He may have been the search-and-destroy type, but I was a  _master_  at deception and subtlety.

Still. It wasn't a very hard operation. The black outfits were uniforms; we just had to be quiet. And if we were caught, I had to say  _hämärä serdstami,_  which was some kind of Twili code amongst the Soldiers. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I'd heard it often enough on missions to know it was legitimate.

"Okay," I told him. "Look, I'm not going to lie, it's going to be dangerous and I'm no use in a fight without…like a flamethrower or something."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. Whoever told you that was stupid."

"Larxene is not stupid."

"Yeah, but she's a bitch." He laughed. It was a fake one again. "If it all goes well, we won't have to fight. If it doesn't…it's probably better to get captured and find a way out once that's finished. I'm not afraid to die…are you?"

"Not really." Sure, I didn't want to die, but in my line of work – not the coffee thing, obviously – it was necessary to be prepared. "We're not going to die, though. We're going to rescue the damsels and Marluxia, send them on their way, and kick some ass."

"What about Riku?"

"He was at That Coffee Place when I left. I don't think we'll be seeing him."

"I hope you're right. I'm not good at calculating these things. I only pretend to be smart, you know; it keeps people on guard and at arms' length."

I blinked. "Maybe you don't give yourself enough credit either."

"Either way, it's a pointless discussion." He started the car. "Are you ready?"

I'd been ready for hours.

* * *

There are some things a person should never see – from trivial things, like their parents having sex, to more important things, like seeing their best friend's mouth  _sewn shut._  I could still see the tears running down her face. Larxene was holding onto her desperately, seeming not to care about the blood running down her own face. I couldn't tell what they'd done to her, other than break her nose, and I didn't want to know.

"We've come to rescue you," I said, almost cringing at how cliché it sounded. I frowned. "Where's Marluxia?"

This prompted a full-body shudder from  _Larxene_  and if I had still been religious, I would have prayed for a gentle answer. "In pieces," she said. "Hurry up and get us out of here; they're coming back soon."

Roxas, who for some unknown reason was  _really good_  at picking locks, had finally gotten the door open and in a deadly calm voice asked, "Where did they take him?"

I knew he didn't care about Marluxia. He was using Marluxia as an excuse to get to them. It wasn't good. "No, you can't go after them right now. We have to get Naminé and Larxene to safety."

To be honest, I wanted a crack at the assholes, too. Marluxia and I hadn't really gotten along, but he had been family. Losing family was something I had never planned; after my parents' deaths, I had assumed nobody would matter. Realizing that Marluxia mattered was disconcerting, annoying, and sad.

"I can take them. I'll kill them all."

"No you  _won't._  I don't have a license,  _Cloud."_

He visibly flinched at that and helped me usher the girls out of their cell; Larxene was limping horribly and Roxas decided to just pick her up and carry her bridal style, and I supported Naminé. When we got to the car I'd have Roxas pick the locks on their restraints and see what I could do about the stitching on Naminé's lips.

"I don't like this," he muttered.

"Yeah, well, neither do I, and neither do they. Keep moving."

Ordering him around was the only thing that kept me from panicking. Someone had to be a responsible party, and since everyone else was busy, it had to be me. I didn't know how we were going so fast; Roxas was practically running with Larxene in his arms, and Naminé was somehow keeping up with me despite the considerable pain she must have been in. I supposed it must be adrenaline.

The halls were…suspiciously empty. We were in the heart of Hollow Bastion Castle, but nobody was there, not even sleeping guards. It made me nervous, but I couldn't show it. I refused to feel it.

But I was right to be suspicious. Even in the dark, I could tell they were waiting for us. There was a tight half-circle of Soldiers just outside the door; there was no way we could get through. It was then that I  _almost_  panicked, until I saw Roxas' face.

Okay, I could finally picture him as what he was: a killer.

His face was predatory and eager. Setting Larxene down gently – she could barely protest – he pulled the gun out of its holster and set it on the ground. I was about to tell him it was a stupid move, but then he turned that smile on me. Ugh. So,  _so_  creepy.

"Gentlemen," he said cheerily. "You've made a mistake. See, we're not who you think we are. I'm going to kill you and there's nothing you can do to stop it. You're only armed with traditional Twili weapons… _that's_  why you're going to die now.  _Vive la revolution."_

And he  _pounced._

I couldn't look away from the – dance of death. Two blades appeared seemingly out of nowhere, though I knew they'd been strapped to his back and cleverly hidden, and he moved through them like mist. Every move was graceful and precise. It was absolutely beautiful. But there was so much blood. That precision meant severing major arteries with every strike. Suddenly he stopped in a half-crouch, one arm sort of raised over his head and the other waiting. I wasn't sure what he was waiting for, until I realized he was only waiting for the last one to die.

I realized it, finally. Roxas got a thrill out of watching them die. I wasn't sure what that meant for me; I couldn't just fall out of love, and I didn't really want to, but I could see how that might turn on me eventually. I was sure I could trust him, but how long would that last? I shook my head and cleared my brain of any morbid thoughts. We still needed to get the girls somewhere safe.

"Roxas," I said quietly. "We need to go."

His blink was slow and languid, like he had forgotten I was there. Maybe he really had. "Uh…right. Let's go, I'll…yeah."

With Larxene in the passenger seat and Naminé next to me, I finally dared to take a look at her stitches. I had taken a few medicine-themed courses in college, until I'd decided I couldn't stand the oppressiveness of a classroom, and everybody in our little family needed to know at least basic first aid…but I didn't think I could remove her stitches without hurting her more.

"I need to know something," I told her very quietly. "Just nod or shake your head. We can't take you to a hospital; it's too dangerous. The earliest you'd be able to see a doctor would be after you got to Disney City. Do you want me to take these stitches out, even though I'm not trained, I might fuck up, and it'll probably be really painful?"

She nodded, and I reached for her face.

There are some things you never forget. I have three: my parents' deaths, Roxas' little dance with the Soldiers, and my best friend's screams as I almost ripped her lips off.

* * *

We decided privately, after Larxene and Naminé were asleep together, that we would have to drive them to Disney City and then come back on our own. There was no way we could just put them on a bus and wave goodbye; there was a good chance of internal bleeding and other complications, especially since Larxene refused to talk about what had happened and Naminé was in no condition to say anything.

The car was parked in Zack's driveway and the girls were sharing a bed. Roxas and I had gone through the skylight and climbed onto the roof; he said he could think better outdoors, but I thought he just needed to get away from the scene inside.

"I always dish out the pain," he told me quietly, drawing his knees up to his chest. "It's really terrible trying to patch someone up afterwards. I haven't had friends since Olette, but…I think maybe I could have been friends with Naminé, at least, if things had been different. Maybe even Larxene; I like her. She's  _really alive._  Kind of like you. I don't like seeing…theoretical friends like that."

"Having friends means you're going to lose them," I replied. I decided not to take his hand and instead put my arm around his shoulders, drawing him to me so his head was almost smashed into my chest. "It's inevitable."

"Well, that's why I hate people. That's why I'm supposed to be alone, because then…I have nothing to live for, so I have no fear of death. I can't handle losing people, Axel. I keep wondering…when are you going to drop dead? And worse, what if I kill you?"

I laughed uneasily. "I don't think you would." Lies. He was pretty unpredictable. "I'll be your reason to live, but you've got to keep my alive for that."

"Don't be an ass."

"I'm not; I'm serious." I put my cheek on the top of his head. "I kinda love you, you know."

He sighed, and it didn't sound exasperated or upset. "I know. I wish I could tell you the same thing, but I still don't know if I believe in love. I've never felt it. But if it were to exist, I'm sure it would be you."

"Good enough for me."

We sat there in silence for a long, long time. I lost track of how many breaths we took, and I didn't mind the cold because Roxas was right there next to me. When the sky began to turn purple, I asked, "Hey…when we get back, are we going to really be Zack and Cloud? How did you make yourself taller? And why did we need new identities anyway?"

"We needed new identities because the Soldiers know exactly who we are. If they try to take over, they won't be looking for Zack and Cloud; they'll be looking for Roxas the serial killer and Axel the terrorist. Yeah, we'll have to become our new identities, but it won't be hard. As for making myself taller…I'm wearing platforms."

"How did you  _fight_  in them?"

He shrugged. "The movements are the same. When I realized the situation in Hollow Bastion, I knew I might need my dad's identity sooner or later; I practiced until I could move just as well wearing them. I'm too short to pass as him, normally, since 'my' ID says I'm at least five inches taller."

"Huh." Something struck me then. "Earlier, you said…that you didn't have a heart. Why'd you say that?"

"Because it's probably true," he replied lightly. "Ever since I can remember, I've been…well, different."

"Different like killing people who piss you off?"

"No." He shrugged and his voice took on an almost melancholy tone. "Mom used to whisper to Dad, when she thought Xion and I were asleep. I mean my dad's second wife; Tifa was already dead by then. She said I was wrong. That I was heartless. That it was a bad idea to have a second child, because the political unrest must have corrupted me when I was in Tifa's womb…she was really superstitious. She believed a baby born in evil must be evil."

I blinked. "Wait, so your mom thought…well, no offense, but you  _are_  kinda evil. You enjoy killing people."

"Yes, I do," he said. "But I enjoy it because I conditioned myself. You should have seen me at the beginning…I was a mess. I actually  _threw up!_  But I got into the swing of things, made it a game – I _love_  games – and then it became…fun. You know, sometimes I wonder what I'll do when my little crusade is over. When I have no one left to kill…will I be able to stop?"

"If you want to, you can. I stopped setting things on fire, and pyromania is an addiction. If I can do it, you can do it."

"Yeah, I know. But will I  _want_  to? When it's all over, will I go back to being the old Roxas, the one who took Olette on dates and skated with Hayner and pretended to listen to Pence talk about computers? Somehow, I don't think so."

I laughed. "I can't really see it. But in all honesty, Roxas…once this thing is over, people will be watching closely. It's been easy, but someday you could get…caught." I didn't want to think about it, but I had to. "I really wouldn't want that to happen."

"I don't want it to happen either – I have something to live for now, apparently. It just…sucks."

"Look, I know everything sucks." He looked at me questioningly, and I continued, "The world sucks. This situation sucks. People suck. The weather sucks. But you don't have to let it drag you down. Your mom was wrong; you have a heart. You have to use it, Roxas. Use it on me. Or Xion. Or anything; if nothing else, just use it to live."

I couldn't believe I'd said that; it seemed trite and…wrong, somehow. I wanted to take it back, or try to make a joke out of it, but I didn't know how. In the end, it didn't matter anyway.

"Yeah," he said, and his smile competed with the rising sun behind him. "Yeah, I think I will."


End file.
